The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair
by Master of the Boot
Summary: Millennium was destroyed, but the conflict never ends. With their backs against the wall, Hellsing will fight a war that will reshape the world as we know it, and Forks is the new battle ground. Welcome to the Big Hellsing. Crossover with Twilight.
1. The Forks Affair

The Big Hellsing

Starring:

Integra Fairbrooke Wingates Hellsing

Seras Victoria

Bella Swan

Jasper Cullen

"I don't mean to sound rude Sir Integra", began the fledgling vampire Seras Victoria, "But I'm a bit foggy about this whole affair".

Integra, the master of Seras master attempted to clarify for Seras, "Well Seras, there's really nothing overly complex about this. Someone stole money which belonged to the Hellsing Organization and we are going out to return it".

Seras looked to Integra, "I know what we're doing, Sir Integra, but I'm still not clear how all of this started".

Integra began to explain as she peered into the rental car's rear view mirror, "Well Seras, you are aware that our organization uses up large amounts of silver during the course of defending Britain from Vampires"?

"Yes, I'd never given it much pause though".

Integra chewed on her cigar and picked up speed in the vehicle, "Well Seras, since I assumed the mantle of Hellsing director, her Majesty has made several cuts to the monarchy's support of the Hellsing Organization. I believe it is her way of reminding me to settle down and produce an heir".

"I see", affirmed Seras.

"You see, Seras, since the monarchy greatly reduced the Hellsing Organization's supply of blessed silver ammunition, we have been forced to turn to other sources in order to acquire the silver we need".

"You mentioned something that happened in Italy"?

"In a moment Police Girl, in a moment", Integra continued with her story, "Most of our silver comes from the Mafia. Specifically, we receive large volumes of silver from a branch of the Soprano family in Rome. Normally, large amounts of money and silver change hands right under the nose of the Vatican. However, this time there was an error. The transaction was ambushed by unknown assailants who were apparently human. Their exact identity or who employed them is currently unknown. The money to pay for the silver was being stored some distance away from the actual transaction in a rather flashy yellow Porsche. Through diligent searching, the vehicle was eventually found in the cit of Volterra sans the actual money".

Seras stood wide eyed in the wake of Integra's fantastic tale, "Wow, so how did you trace the money to the town of F-f-f. Sorry, what was the town called again"?

"Forks, Police Girl, that's the name of the town. But to answer your question, we found a valuable piece of evidence in the stolen vehicle. We found a piece of homework belonging to one Isabella Swan. This was the beginning; we were finally able to narrow the search through a great deal of trial and error with the aid of MI6". Integra turned up the windshield wipers, taking note of the pouring rain which seemed to characterize so well this part of the United States. Just ahead was the giant sign which signaled to all who cared, "Welcome to Forks, Washington". Integra extinguished her cigar in the car's ash tray and turned to Seras, "Now Seras, when we go in, just behave as I coached you to act. If you do that and do not contradict me, then this will all turn out perfectly".

"Why did you choose me to come along"? This question really seemed to catch Integra's attention.

"Whatever do you mean Officer Victoria"?

"I mean sir, that why didn't you bring along Alucard on this mission. Surely he would be a far more effective mind reader"?

"Officer Victoria, I brought you because bringing Alucard would be like using a sledge hammer to crack a walnut and besides", her tone softened, "If you are to develop as a vampire then you need to be able to handle yourself without your Master's aid". As the car slowed she informed Seras, "We're approaching the house, be ready".

Seras and Integra approached the home of person they intended to interrogate, the rain finally ending as they arrived. Integra was dressed in her usual masculine suit and Seras in conservative business wear complete with a skirt. For Seras, it was a welcome change from the miniskirts she was forced to wear as part of her uniform. Integra carried a briefcase containing the evidence and hidden underneath her jacket was a nine millimeter handgun loaded with blessed silver ammunition. Forged from silver stolen by the Sopranos of course. And with a knock on the door, the games began.

"Officer Victoria, take note of that vehicle", Integra pointed to the expensive looking jeep in front of the house, "I think that the little slut may have spent some of the money already". A moment later, a middle aged man opened the door.

Chief Charlie Swan blinked when he opened the door. In front of him were two bizarre women who he did not recognize. Both of the two women were blond. The first was short and chesty with the shorter hair of the two and a somewhat naive expression on her face. The second was tall and masculine with waist length hair. Her facial expression clearly read , "Don't piss me off". Looking at the two strange women, Charlie asked them, "Can I help you two"?

Seras attempted to answer before she was cut off by Integra, "Chief Swan, my name is Lucy Murray and this is my partner Mina Westenra. We'd like to speak to your daughter Isabella about some business which took place in Volterra". To prove her point, Integra and Seras flashed a couple of fake police badges. Charlie was confused, his daughter had never visited France and the only place she'd travelled to recently was Los Angeles to talk to that damn boyfriend of hers. However, in Charlie's mind the seeds of doubt had been sown.

"Bella"! Charlie yelled for his daughter. There she came down the stairs, pale, mildly pretty and not showing her chronic clumsiness for once.

"Hey Charlie", she greeted, "What's going on"?

Both Seras and Integra looked at each other. Integra gave the order to commence, "Now Police girl". With that Seras looked Charlie in the eyes, her own glowing an unearthly red. Thoroughly under the control of vampire hypnosis, Charlie collapsed on the floor in enchanted sleep. He hit the floor like a ton of bricks and began to snore loudly.

Bella Screamed and moved to help her father but Integra shoved her onto the sofa. "Sit down", the tone of her voice permitted no dissention. At this point, fear was coursing through Bella's veins. Her father was fast asleep and she was trapped in the house with a crazy lady and a vampire. Bella squirmed under the gaze of the masculine woman's icy blue eyes. She had not faced such an intense glare since she first met her boyfriend Edward. The difference was that this lady didn't want to kiss her, she wanted to kill her and Bella was certain of it.

Integra looked at Bella, "Look me in the eye like a proper woman when I speak to you".

"Y-yes", Bella managed to choke out.

Integra permitted herself a cold smile, "Good, now please look my companion in the eye". Seras gave Bella the same glowing vampire hypnosis which she had wrought on Bella's father. , Seras frowned when she found that she could not read Bella's mind. It was as though the girl's mind was transparent to her own vampire power.

"I can't read her mind".

"What", came Integra's blunt response.

"I just can't, I don't know why".

Integra frowned, "Well, this will not stop us". Once more her intense glare, almost equal to that of a vampire's glare, turned to Bella. "Do you know why we are here Bella"? The girl shook her head. Integra savored the girl's fear and continued, "Is that your jeep out front Bella"?

"No, it belongs to a friend".

"Really", Integra drawled, not entirely convinced. Without breathing another word, Integra opened her brief case and pulled out a piece of paper in a sealed plastic bag. Integra smiled, sure that the girl would crack easily, "Is this your homework Bella"? Bella didn't respond immediately, "Is this your homework"?

"Yes". And she thought to herself, "Stupid Alice, making us go posing as students".

"Where is the money"?

"I don't know, I don't know what money you're talking about".

Seras jumped in, "Don't try and play coy you, we know that you stole the money in Volterra".

"Wait, there was never any money in Volterra, I went there to keep my boyfriend from killing himself".

"Bella, neither I nor the police girl swallow your lies for a moment. Have you read the novel _Dracula_? Because if you have you'd know that you're entering a world of pain. We know that you stole the yellow Porsche and the money". Integra put down the homework and held open her coat to reveal her handgun, "Depending on your level of honesty, we'll resort to whatever tactics we need".

"Yes that's right", Seras clumsily interjected, "We'll do to you that thing from Reservoir dogs. We will cut off your ear". Integra just looked at Seras like she had two heads. "I'm sorry, I'll be quiet".

"Bella, this is your last chance. Where is that bloody money"? One more time Bella shook her head. Integra just shrugged, "Very well, this is pointless. It's time to enact plan b".

Seras was ever enthusiastic, "That's right Bella, plan . . . wait, what's plan b"?

Ignoring Seras, Integra packed up her briefcase and made as though to leave the house. First though she turned to Bella, "You might want to watch out that front window". Integra tensed up for a moment, "Bella, this is what happens when you FUCK A HELLSING IN THE ARSE"!

BAM! Integra kicked the front door open and stormed towards the rental car, "If that little cunt thinks that she can play me for a fool then she's in for a world of pain".

"Integra, Sir Integra. What's going on", Seras ran after Integra just as Integra began tore off her jacket and reached into the trunk of the car. "What are you doing"?

At that moment, Integra found what she was looking for. Holding her crow bar proudly she headed for the expensive jeep, "Here you go Bella, do you see what happens, do you see what happens Bella"! SMASH! Integra took out the jeep's rear window with a single hit. The jeep's car alarm was silenced when Integra fired her clip into the dashboard. "Do you see what happens Bella; do you see what happens when you fuck a Hellsing in the arse"? CRASH! There went the side windows.

"This is what happens Bella; this is what happens when you fuck a Hellsing in the arse"!

SHATTER! BUST! SMASH!

"Do you see what happens Bella, DO YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS BELLA WHEN YOU FUCK A HELLSING IN THE ARSE"!

In the meanwhile Bella ran for the phone, tripping and nearly killing herself in the process. She dialed the number of the only person who could help, "Edward, come quickly, there's a crazy lady smashing up Jasper's car. She has a vampire with her, yes a vampire".

Integra had just smashed both headlights on the jeep and was now working on the hood of the vehicle, "Do you see what happens Bella, do you see what happens when you-

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING LADY"! A large vampire had appeared out of nowhere, probably to check up on his very expensive jeep. "STOP IT". Seeing the tremendous damage that this human woman had done to his vehicle, the vampire flew into a rage. He shoved Integra to the ground and raised the crowbar over his head, ready to kill Integra. In a blur, Seras flew at the vampire and knocked him away from Integra.

Seras's eyes flashed red and she growled at the vampire, "Don't you dare harm her you freak". With this, Integra leapt to her feet and scanned around for her pistol.

The vampire at first growled back at Integra until Bella ran out of the house yelling, "Jasper, don't kill her. It's just a car"!

Jasper screamed back at Bella, "That fucking car was a gift from my wife". He turned and made a bee line towards the rental car, "I'll kill her fucking car"!

Now Seras screamed, "No you can't do that, it's just a rental-. She was cut off as Jasper began to rip apart the rental car like it was made of cardboard. "You like that" SCREECH!

"Fuck you" CRUSH! "I'LL KILL YOUR FUCKING CAR, I'LL KILL YOUR. . ."

15 Minutes later . . .

They were all driving away from Forks in a Volvo. The Volvo in question belonged to Bella's boyfriend Edward. Edward drove while Bella set next to him. In the back rode Seras and Integra. Integra was nibbling on a cheese burger without any zeal while Seras carried what was left of the rental car in a black garbage bag. Every couple of moments, Bella and Integra 

would exchange an awkward stare, or Edward would fleetingly glance at the two women who had the audacity to threaten the love of his life.

At this point, Integra didn't even bother trying to look intimidating. What she had done out there was make a total ass of herself and the Police Girl. That was something that would not be forgotten easily. The fact that the little whore was dating a vampire that was driving them to the airport in Seattle because their idiocy had killed the car only rubbed salt into the wounds of Integra's ego.

As they pulled away from the godforsaken rainy town of Forks and into Seattle, Integra vowed that for as long as she lived, Alucard would never find out about this.


	2. The Vatican Offensive: Part One

Chapter Two: The Vatican's offensive

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this shit. So don't sue.

Edward was calm on the outside but on the inside he was furious. Fifteen minutes ago he'd been called by Bella with a very urgent message. Apparently some crazy ice queen and her pet nosferatu had smashed up Jasper's jeep. That in itself didn't rouse his anger so much as what'd been said to Bella. It seemed that this Integra person had the audacity to threaten Bella's life, supposedly to locate some stolen money or something equally ludicrous.

And now, the two people who had threatened the life of the person closest to him in the world were sitting in the back seat of his silver Volvo. The tall blond with waste length hair, the one called Integra, was keeping on a poker face in order to hide her embarrassment. It was a futile activity because Edward's vampire power happened to be mind reading. "_Lousy Tart and her crystalline vampire fucktoy, I can only pray that Alucard never finds out about this_". This thought was accompanied by the image of a very tall man dressed in a dog's breakfast of red Victorian clothing pointing and laughing at Integra.

Edward neither knew nor cared who this Alucard character was, if it wasn't for Bella's insistence he'd have kicked in all of Integra's teeth and kicked her across the state. Then there was the matter of her nosferatu companion, the Seras person with the large breasts. Normally, you had to avoid fighting nosferatu class vampires unless you had any combination of crosses, wooden stakes or blessed silver, but Edward at the moment felt fully confident that he would have been able to take Seras, if only Bella hadn't insisted otherwise.

At that moment, Edward began to pay a little closer attention to the thoughts of the innocent faced nosferatu. It was rather odd, the kind of thoughts that Edward was picking up from the girl. The thoughts coming off of her clashed markedly with what Carlisle had always told him about nosferatu vampires. He'd always painted them as horrific engines of bloodshed that had no limits to the atrocities they were capable of committing; ranging from but not limited to torture, rape, mutilation and cannibalism. If anything Carlisle said was accurate, they made Edward's own species of vampire look tame.

At the moment, Seras thoughts were rather stress free given the circumstances. She was worried how she and Integra would explain what happened to their rental car, but mostly she was going on about how she hated the classical music that was playing on Edward's stereo. "_I always liked classical music but this is terrible. How does he stand this shit? Should I ask him to change it to the radio? Yes, I should ask him to change the stereo. But wait, I'm in no position to make demands of him. What if he says no? If I asked twice, would that be too annoying. Maybe I ought to-_".

"I'm willing to change to FM radio is Bella is willing".

This stunned Seras. "Erm, what"?

"I could hear your thoughts. It's my power. And I am willing to be accommodating". Bella nodded in approval and off went Mozart, replaced by the country tunes of Credence Clearwater.

Upon hearing the song, Seras bounced to life, "Oh joy, turn it up, this is my favorite song". In no time she was bouncing up and down in her seat singing along with the lyrics.

"_Just got home from Illinois,  
Lock the front door, oh, boy!  
Got to sit down,  
Take a rest on the porch.  
Imagination sets in,  
Pretty soon I'm singin'.  
Doo, doo, doo,  
Lookin' out my back door_".

If happiness was contagious then Integra was immune to it. while Seras bounced in her seat, fun and fancy free, Integra remained dour and every bit the ice queen. She looked over at her vampiric companion and employee and told her, "Seras, shut the fuck up". Like magic, Seras stopped singing and hung her head in shame; her unhappiness was practically a tangible presence in the air.

"Why do you have to be mean to her"? Integra looked in surprise at the previously silent Bella. Integra was shocked at the boldness of the young klutz. Who probably needed a superhuman boyfriend to avoid accidently killing herself.

In a tone more often used on impetuous politicians, Integra told Bella, "Don't lecture those that are above your station young lady".

"What do you mean, above my station? Are you like a duchess or something"?

Now that made Integra bristle, the girl was so ignorant as to know nothing of the European system of nobility. "I am Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. And I have seen more in the last five years of my life than you'll ever see in your entire life".

"Why do they call you sir"?

"Because it commands more respect than Dame Integra you foolish little-", she didn't get to finish because a menacing growl gave her the signal to shut up. The growl in question came from Edward, who was baring his teeth in a most threatening manner.

With this, Integra shot Seras a quick glance, like Seras had forgotten something. Seras sat up strait in her seat and pushed aside the remains of the rental car. "Ah, right then". Then she began to growl and she bared her fangs. Edward leaned closer to Seras and growled louder. Seras eyes turned red and she hissed at Edward.

GRRRRRRRRRR!

HISSSSSSSSSSSS!

GRRRRRRRRRRRR!

HISSSSSSSSSSSSSS!

**GRRRRRRRRRRRR!**

**HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!**

At that moment, Bella shook Edward from his primal matchup with Seras, "Edward, keep your eyes on the road, please".

Seras breathed a sigh of relief, "I'm glad that's over. I nearly lost control". Integra just groaned on the inside. At least with Alucard, you could count on him to be scary at all times. Seras couldn't be scary unless her life depended on it.

Fortunately, for Integra and Seras, the ordeal was nearly over, the Seattle airport loomed ahead just as the rain began to pick up again. Before leaving, Edward said to her, "I hope we never meet again".

Integra looked at Edward as though he were a worm, "Young man, if we never meet again, it will be too soon".

Edward looked at Integra with a gaze as intense as any, "I'm over a hundred years old". Then, with vampire speed, he reached around and slammed Integra's door right down on a corner of her jacket. Not pausing a beat he floored the gas pedal, ripping the coat off of Integra like a magician yanking a tablecloth from a table. Edward just pretended that he didn't hear Integra cursing and held Bella's hand.

"Edward"

"Yes Bella"

"That was actually really funny. With the Jacket". And Edward really had to agree.

15 Minutes Later . . .

Bella was partly touched by Edward's display of concern. But she had her limits. "Edward, I swear I'm not hurt. All they did was yell a lot. And wreck Jasper's jeep".

"I know, but if anything happened to you, I'd don't even want to think what I would have done".

Bella turned to face Edward and gave him a semi-serious look, "Edward, your problem is that you need to relax. Take it easy, the danger's past". She looked ahead, checking to see that the lineup in the burger joint they were had shortened. "The only thing I regret tonight is not getting a burger earlier. This place makes some good burgers".

"If you say so Bella, but I'd never be able to tell".

No sooner had the words left his mouth, did an explosion ring out. It was a nearby explosion. Naturally, it scared away everybody except for a pale skinned girl and a vampire with topaz eyes. Bella and Edward ran out to find Edward's car a burning wreck.

"Oh my God, Edward, somebody killed your Car". Indeed, somebody had stabbed Edward's car with so many bayonets that one of them must have pierced the gas tank and created a spark. Standing before the burning remains of the car were the culprits. To the right there was a German person of indeterminable gender dressed as a priest. To the left was a timid looking Japanese nun who was packing a samurai sword. But the man in the center he, was something else.

The leader of the Vatican rogue's gallery was a seven foot Scotsman with some rather extreme mental health problems. He was Alexander Anderson, the Vatican's ultimate weapon against the undead. And thus far, he was the scariest thing that Bella had ever laid eyes on.

People had tried to kill her before. James and his mate Victoria had been evil had both attempted to have Bella pushing up daisies. But this guy was a whole other story. James and Victoria might have been evil, but at least they were sane. This priest guy looked completely _in_sane. It was that grin of his, that pearly white perfect grin that immediately told you that something was wrong with this man. And the fact that the glare off his glasses made his eye look like shiny, evil orbs didn't hurt either.

Anderson stepped forward and announced, "Destruction cometh; and they shall seek peace, and there shall be none. He only is my rock and my salvation: he is my defense; I shall not be moved. AFORE YE EVEN HAVE AE CHANCE TAE TREMBLE, YE'LL PERISH LIKE STRAW"!

Tune in for Next Time folks as dearest Edward Goes up against the Vatican's finest.


	3. The Vatican Offensive: Part Two

The Big Hellsing

The Vatican Offensive: Part 2

Disclaimer: Why would anybody think I own anything?

The insane Paladin had just issued his intent, clear as crystal. The androgynous German, a person named Heinkel, spoke up next, "Ve want the money vampire". Heinkel sounded more like a woman. She also sounded a bit more rational than her seven foot compatriot. None the less, she was just as lethal in her intent as Anderson was.

Now the Japanese nun Yumiko spoke up, she seemed to be the rational and reason behind this merry band of misfits. Her voice was reassuring as she looked strait into Bella's eyes, "Please, just do as my companions command and nobody need leave her hurt". Yumiko looked expectantly at Bella, as though she were excepting the girl to just pull huge bags of money out of her pockets.

Bella's response fell far short of what Yumiko was expecting. Frankly, Bella was tired. She was tired of all manner of supernatural being who could bend steel and run at light speed but couldn't seem to be able to mind their own fucking business. So she gave the Catholics a piece of her mind, "We don't have the fucking money you dip-shits! We never did". She pointed at the unholy troika who served the holy trinity, "I make minimum wage working at Newton's sporting goods plus the odd five bucks that my dad gives me. So please, just leave me and my boyfriend alone and fuck off"!

The nun blushed at this display of rage, Heinkel stood stoic but Anderson felt that there was more damage to be done. "Dinnae take that tone me young lass, yer hardly the innocent victim ye paint yerself tae be". Alexander Anderson reached into his long jacket; Edward's threatening growl did not stay his hand in the least. He lingered for a moment, ready to draw his weapon, but no weapon came. Instead Anderson yanked out an official looking sheet of paper and held it at arm's length. The paper was marked with the official seal of the Iscariot Organization: Section Thirteen.

"Isabella Marie Swan, under the authority of the Holy See and the good grace of his holiness the Pope Benedict the Twenty-sixth, ye are hereby charged with heresy, consorting with vampires, consorting with werewolves, underage drinking and fare more sinister. . ."

Heinkel and Yumiko crossed themselves at the mere thought of the terrible crime that Bella had committed.

". . . **Pre-marital sex**", Anderson listed the last one off as though Bella was guilty of trying to blow up the universe.

Bella was shocked that the Vatican cared enough about her that they compiled a warrant. What happened next shocked her more than anything before.

"Fuck you, fuck the three of you", it was Edward. Prudish and proper Edward, who had never cursed in all the time that Bella had known him, just told the assassin priest's to fuck off. Bella was amazed at how sexy Edward was when he swore.

Anderson bared his ivory white teeth, "I was nae talking to ye, _vampire_".

"And I don't need your permission to speak, _Regenerator_". His previously gentle topaz eyes now burned with an inner fire which sought out something to burn to ashes. "What gives you people, the right to come here and judge whoever you please"?

Anderson took a step forward, a gesture remarkably similar to a bull standing off. "We are on a mission from God; we are the zealot Judas, wielding oor dagger and poisoning the evening meal. We seek to do battle wi the Seven Million, Four hundred-five thousand nine hundred and twenty six daemons o' hell".

"God? What does God have to do with any of this? Don't delude yourself Father Alexander Anderson; you're as much a soulless monster as I am. How many people have you killed in one of your regenerator's frenzies? You, your rituals, your hocus pocus and your kangaroo trials from Rome do not impress me". Edward squeezed his hand and made his knuckles pop, "Leave now, or you will suffer the consequences".

Bella was back in action now and she had no intention of letting her sweet heart jump into a fight to the death. After she became a vampire, sure he could fight to the death, but only because she'd be there to fight and die with him. "Whoa, whoa hold on. If these guys want money we can give them money". She rummaged into her pocket, finding nothing, and then moving onto the other pocket. "I have just about seventeen dollars in change, will that be enough"?

Edward's velvety voice reached out like a calming command to her brain, "We don't have to give these men anything Bella, they're cowards. Hiding behind God to justify their crimes".

For Alexander Anderson, this was the last straw. If it were up to him, he would have snuck up on the entire Cullen clan and given them a reminder that nobody can escape God's judgment for long. "THEN MAY THE CHRISTIAN LORD GUIDE MAE HAND AGAINST YER VAMPIRE DEVILRY"!

"PREPARE TO MEET YOUR END, MUTANT"! At that instant, two things happened simultaneously. Anderson whipped two razor sharp bayonets from his sleeves and held them before his face in the shape of a cross. Edward tore a nearby stop sign out of the ground along with a hundred pounds of concrete. Edward swung the stop sigh around and the concrete flew off of the end. The flying concrete mass struck Heinkel in the chest, if not killing her then certainly putting her out of action for the foreseeable future.

Anderson paid no heed to his fallen comrade; he was fully wrapped up in the regenerator's psychosis. All that he wanted, all that he needed was his enemy dead and buried at all costs. Then, he and his opponent charged.

Edward ran, carrying his stop sign as though it was a magic weapon and he was an invincible warrior out to defend his woman's honor. Alexander ran, carrying his bayonets like they were part of his body, ready to inflict pain on those who went against God's will. Edward was like a mountain lion, every tendon, muscle fiber and movement was in perfect synchrony. Edward was like warrior poetry in motion. Anderson was like a locomotive, powerful, unflinching and unstoppable. Only one man was going to walk away from this fight.

The first blows were struck. Invisible to the human eye, Anderson's blades flew at Edward's neck. But Edward deflected the blow with his sign. Anderson struck again and again at Edward with speed to make a striking cobra look slow. Again and again, Edward deflected the blessed blades which he knew would carve his marble skin like a roast.

Anderson's attack was too fast, a nonstop barrage of sparks signaled where Edward only just defended himself. But there, an opening. The paladin overextended his considerable reach. CRACK! Edward struck out and shattered the Paladin's right knee.

Anderson's eyes bulged from their sockets, but in his present state, pain was a foreign concept that he did not understand. Without missing a beat, he drove the point of one of his shining blades into Edward's left eye.

Edward jumped back and roared in pain. The blade was lodged deep in his brain, the optic nerve cried out in pain. But in Edward's mind an image formed, it was the face of his beloved fiancée. For Bella, he would tear this mutant apart limb from limb. But he had to remain rational to win this fight. If he let his instincts take over, the fight would degenerate into a contest of strength, which he would surely loose.

Anderson's knee was healed by now, for vampires were slow healers compared to him. He renewed his onslaught, as though his salvation rested upon it. First attacking with one bayonet and then pulling another from his jacket, he fought like a daemon possessed him.

This time, Anderson's blades struck true. He broke through the boy's defenses and slashed him across the chest and arms multiple times. This vampire was a tricky one, faster than many he had faced in the past.

Edward was losing ground to the mad paladin. His face was the very picture of insanity, sweat dripped down his face, green eyes bugged so far out they looked as if they were going to escape and the whitest grin.

Edward could hear the paladin's thoughts. He was not wrong; he knew from the first moment that this man was mad. His thoughts flowed like a river of industrial waste, bright colorful and poisonous. "_kill kill, die die, make the Cullen go to hell, kill kill die, make his woman follow suite, kill kill, die die. . ._"

Edward heard the bizarre sing song that sprung from the regenerator's diseased mind and it fuelled his anger. THWACK! Edward brought the edge of the red octagon down on Anderson's neck. The left side of Anderson's face twitched as noxious blood oozed slowly from his severed carotid artery.

Anderson's mind was a million miles away and right there in the middle of the battle. His hand went away and came up with half a dozen bayonets. Clenching his hand, the blessed blades looked like claws in his hand. And he swung!

Edward lunged backwards! The attack from his adversary cutting the stop sign in half and left six slashes marks on his face. Then something pulled him away from his adversary and the fight. Bella was in distress.

While Edward and Anderson had been tearing each other to pieces, Bella was engaged in her own struggle. She had been trying to get closer to the two combatants. She figured that she might distract the Scotsman somehow. But Yumiko wouldn't have it. She was trying to restrain Bella. Any intervention between two powerful beings by a mortal would only mean the death of the mortal. Unlike her compatriots, Yumiko was not interested in senseless violence.

Yumiko attempted to restrain Bella while Bella tried to break away. During the struggle, Bella knocked off Yumiko's glasses, a very heavy mistake to be sure. The change was instantaneous. In that moment, the Japanese nun ceased to be Yumiko, but transformed into Yumie, psychopathic berserker nun. And unlike her split personality, Yumie fully believed that Bella deserved to die.

"Yumiko may have wanted to spare your fucking worthless life, but anybody who fucks a vampire deserves what I hand out". Looking deeply into Bella's shocked eyes, Yumie savored the fear. With uncanny speed she drew her sword from its hilt and prepared to send this heathen girl back to hell where she belonged.

But at that moment, Bella was saved by an angel. Not an angel, a God, an Adonis. Edward flew at Bella. A flash of movement from Edward! Yumie's sword shattered like glass. Before the berserker nun could react, cold fingers stronger than steel wrapped around her throat and lifted her off the ground.

In Edward's grip, Yumie's eyes bugged out comically and her tongue as well. Edward brought her closer, mouth wide open and vampire's venom flowing. He would have drained the nun of all her blood, not that Yumie deserved any better. What stopped him was a touch. A warm touch from a weak and nearly insignificant human named Bella. And because of that Edward did not kill the nun.

However, Edward did not spare her from punishment. He reached out and like pulling a flower from the ground he tore Yumie's ear off. He let go and Yumie dropped to the ground, clutching the spot where her ear used to be. "Fanatical bitch", he swore at her. To complete the act, he curled his hand into a fist and punched Yumie right in the nose. The nun went down like a bag of hammers.

Edward looked to Bella, neither could think of what to say. Suddenly, something that was seven feet tall and weighted five hundred pounds slammed into Edward, pinning him to the ground. Bella couldn't help but gasp at the state of Alexander Anderson. Edward had done quite a number on him before rushing to Bella's aid. The priest's head had been split down the middle by a stop sign and part of that stop sign was thrust through his heart.

What was even creepier was that he was still smiling, as though he had the situation under control. First the halves of his head put themselves together. Then the metal pole through his heart fell out with a wet noise and hit the ground with a CLANG! Exhaling gently, two bayonets fell out of his sleeves. Edward struggled under Anderson's superior strength, his foot planted right on Edward's neck. Anderson prepared for the kill, he slid the two blades against each other, creating sparks and then he raised both weapons –

"God is a lie"

Anderson looked up confused.

"God isn't real", Bella's lame attempt to distract the paladin worked.

"Whit are ye on aboot? Dinnae distract me when I-CRASH!

Anderson didn't finish his sentence because at that moment a canary yellow Porsche slammed into him and tore him into two pieces. Blood and guts flew everywhere. Anderson's torso flew that-a-way and his legs went this-a-way. Driving the yellow vehicle was none other than Alice, Edward's sister who held the power to see the future.

The little pixie of a vampire waved to Bella and the now Risen Edward, "Quickly, quickly people". Bella was barely in the car before Alice stepped on the gas. With a smell of burning rubber, they were off, and much faster than the speeding limit.

Edward was still a little stunned, "Thank you".

Alice, ever the bundle of energy replied, "No problem Edward, any day. Yeah, I was just shopping and I discovered this amazing blue dress. Then I had this vision of your honeymoon and it was just so romantic. Admittedly the house keeper doesn't like Edward but that's. . ."

Edward cut her off, "Alice, skip it a little bit".

"Of course, anyways I had next a vision of Edward getting the tar beat out of him by a crazy man. By the way, your eye's healing nicely so don't worry. At that moment I realized that you needed my help. And here we are, safe and sound". Alice tensed up for a moment; Edward realized she was having a vision. "Um, Edward, we've got company".

Edward gave Alice a funny look, "What do you mean company"? It wasn't long before his question was answered. Edward recognized the sound of bayonets being stabbed into the side of a car.

Paladin Anderson was never one to run away from a fight, even at his most rational. He had dragged himself after the car without even bothering to reunite with his other half. Now he was using is weapons to climb up the rear of Alice's car. He dragged himself up with increased zeal when his opponent struck.

Edward lunged forward and looked Anderson in the eye, taking in the sight of his white cotton gloves. One read, "Jesus Christ is in Heaven", the other read, "Speak with the dead". Edward made a mental note of this; Alice would probably want a pair of gloves just like these. With no further pomp or ceremony he lunged forward and bit the fingers off one of Anderson's hands.

Anderson screamed but his grip stayed true where he had fingers to grip. Then Alice leaned leapt from the driver's seat and said to him in words too fast and high for a human to hear, "You are a bad man Paladin Anderson, a bad man with a stylish sense of dress, but a bad man", and then she bit off his remaining fingers.

Anderson slid down the car's rear and hit the road. From there he went rolling for a quarter before finally stopping. Slowly lifting himself up, Anderson roared an incoherent scream into the night sky, cursing vampires of all species and especially cursing vampire venom, the one substance capable of slowing down his healing process. WHUMP! And then he was run over by a semi truck trailer.

15 minutes later

The three Iscariot priests were sitting down at burger king. But only Anderson was eating burgers. Heinkel was struggling to breath; it was quite a challenge with half of one's ribs broken. Yumiko was nursing a broken nose while trying to stifle the blood flow from her missing ear with tissue paper. Anderson paid attention to none of this. He was far too upset at the turn of the battle.

As a regenerator he had an ultra efficient digestive system capable of rapidly breaking down food into useable forms within minutes. However, despite this he still had to eat like a five hundred pound, seven foot tall man would be expected to eat, a lot. Cheese burger after cheese burger went into his mouth in a seemingly unending stream. The fight had taken a great deal out of him. Especially when his heart was dispatched. When that happened his body cells burned energy at an accelerated rate in lieu of oxygen. And healing his brain was no picnic.

"Dis happens every dime", Yumiko sobbed. "I try to contribute someding to da battle plan but you're all more interested in listening to my berserker half who has an IQ of five". Her broken nose interfered with her speech.

Anderson put down his burger and signed. He was acting like a pig, no worse, a vampire. "Ah'm sorry Yumiko, ye shouldn't have to pay me mae troubles". Little did he realize that their troubles were just beginning.

Some geeky looking teenager had come up to the trio and asked them, "Uh, sirs, um, how are you going to, like, pay for all this"? The three Vatican people all froze at the sound of these words. They'd brought weapons and they'd brought their faith. But they didn't bring out a single penny with them.

Fortunately Anderson had a plan he said to the kid, "Look here young un, we're wit the Vatican an' on a very important mission". He pulled out his cell phone and he said in a very important sounding voice, "An now ah'm going tae call someone oo' works for me". Inside though, Anderson was in a state of panic. He was going over and over in his head, "_Peter, where are ye_"? Finally Anderson's friend Peter answered the phone.

"Hello"?

"Aye, Peter, its Alex. Ah'm in trouble".

"Al, if you need me to foot your bill again, this is the last time I'm doing this".

And that about wraps up chapter three of this. Tune in next update when the crew at the Hellsing makes a prank phone call.

Update, it means so much to me.

Ta

Master of the Boot


	4. Alucard's Greivance

The Big Hellsing

Chapter 4: Alucard's Grievance

Disclaimer: I'm not a Mormon housewife or a demented Japanese artist. I own jack.

"I first saw it when it came out in nineteen eighty-nine. I'd only been released from imprisonment only a year previously and I was quite bored".

"When you say imprisoned, do you mean like, in jail"?

"Does it really look like any jail could hold this guy kid"?

The tall young man with dirty blond hair shot a glare at his fellow recruit, "Damn it Leon, I told you to stop calling me kid"!

Leon Kennedy just smiled at the kid, "I'll stop calling you that Zohall, when you grow up". Leon then turned to Alucard, "You were going on about batman".

Alucard took a sip from his bag of medical blood and replied, "Yes I was. Anyways, my previous experience with comic books was rather limited. I'd read a few issues of superman back in thirty eight, but that was my limit. Superman didn't leave me with a vey good first impression of anything comic book related".

Leon cautioned Alucard, "Hey, don't talk that way about the guy in blue, he's my favorite superhero".

"Then I believe that you need a new favorite Superhero Leon", Alucard took off his glasses, "What was I talking about again"?

Zohall chipped in, "You were going on about how you first saw Batman and how great it was".

"Yes that was it! Anyways, I was newly freed from decades of magical imprisonment in the basement of the Hellsing manor and I had a few pounds on me. A vampire I'd killed earlier had some money on him. Then I saw it. I saw trailers for Batman. I saw posters for it and it just called out to me. I was pulled in two opposite directions, part of me wanted to see this new movie and part of me was just too distrustful of the director. Eventually though, my pro batman side won out and I was not disappointed".

"I never saw that batman but I was the Dark Knight a little while ago and I liked it a lot. The fight scenes were really awesome".

"That's why you're an idiot Zohall Mercer"

Zohall sprang up from his chair, outraged. "You wanna start something"?

Alucard shrugged, "I'm just saying that the Dark Knight was the worst pile of garbage I've ever seen. And all who enjoy it are total idiots".

"You're really starting to piss me off", Mercer drew one of his Katanas and pointed the blade at Alucard's heart.

Leon took up the role of the referee, "Hey hey, you guy have already fought and you don't need to fight over something as stupid as a movie. Am I right?"

Alucard and Zohall Mercer both sat down, both of them thinking that they were right on the issue at hand. Alucard went on with his story, "As I was saying before our little spat. I saw Batman that night and immediately I knew that I stumbled upon a classic".

Mercer once more added his two cents, "I read about Batman on rotten , they didn't give it a very good review. They kept saying it had a weak plot".

"That's the greatest lie I've ever heard. The plotline of the original batman was simplicity itself. It was about character versus character. Joker versus Batman. A war taking place in a town too small for the both of them. This new batman, the Dark Knight, has no plot. It's merely a bunch of tired out sermonizing by a director who should have died instead of Heath Ledger".

Zohall however was not swayed by Alucard's passionate speech, "I don't care what you say, the Dark Knight fucking rocked and nothing you say can change that".

At that moment, Walter Dornez, the Hellsing family butler entered the room with a cordless phone. "Alucard, it's the Volturi".

Alucard snapped out of his nostalgic mood, "Finally, they couldn't ignore me forever". Alucard grabbed the telephone and immediately spoke into the receiver, "Hello, who is this"?

"This is Aro, who is speaking"?

"Don't feign ignorance Aro, it's me".

Aro, apparently wanted to have some fun with Alucard, "I'm sorry, but If you won't identify yourself-

"It's Alucard you lowlife"! Alucard fumed at the arrogance of the vampire on the other end of the line. "What's wrong Aro; have the Volturi already forgotten about me"?

Aro faked subservience, "Oh no Alucard, we would never forget about the great and powerful Dracula". Alucard was no fool; he sensed the barb hidden in the comment.

"You know why I am contacting you". It was not a question.

"Ever so sorry Alucard but I'm quiet ignorant regarding whatever grievances you might have".

"Aro, I left a dozen phone messages, just as many e-mails and even some mystical messages left to you. You cannot honestly say that you are unaware why I'm calling. But if you are I advise that you kill all of your servants for leaving you out of the loop".

"That's a bit of a harsh solution isn't it Alucard"?

"No". This was followed by several seconds of prolonged silence. Alucard was certain that Aro was snickering at him, "I'm calling to demand my money back".

"You want your money back", his voice was dripping with mock shock.

"Yes Aro, I purchased an x-box 360 from you which was modified for use by vampires. But when I began to use it I found that I had bought damaged goods".

"Damaged goods"?

Alucard's patience for this fool's games was running short, "Yes Aro, fucking damaged goods. When I say damaged I mean that the graphics were shit. I also mean that when I pressed pause the entire fucking thing crashed in my face. And also I mean that the fucking screen froze if I so much as looked at it. Is my message getting through to you Aro? Or do I have to explain in only single syllable words"?

"Goodness no Alucard, I understand your frustration. But what is it you want of me"?

"I. Want. My. Money. Back. Now". Alucard's rage was palpable in the room. His thick menacing aura was nearly unbearable to Walter, Leon and Zohall. His eyes were now bloodshot to the point that he had no white left in them. His lips were drawn back in a snarl, exposing a mouth full of shark like teeth. His canines had lengthened; they now were long enough to shred his lower lip.

"Well, I'm sorry Alucard but at the moment things are tight financially over here in Volterra. What we could do though is send you another x-box at a reduced price. Does that settle our little problem"?

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT YOU LITTLE CUNT! YOU AND YOUR INBRED BROTHERS ARE SWIMMING IN GOLD. HOW DARE YOU LIE TO ME? HOW DARE YOU LIE TO THE KING OF VAMPIRES"?

Aro laughed, "Oh Alucard that's quite a joke. You, the king of vampires? That's rich that's hilarious. You're a vampire yes, but you're no king. You see, a king gives orders, while a servant obeys orders. A king is free to do as he pleases, while a servant is bound to do as his master pleases. A king has subjects, while a servant is a subject. I'm afraid that you've been behaving like a servant rather than a king. There used to be a vampire king a century ago. His name was Dracula and he was defeated by Abraham Van Helsing. Have you ever heard of this Dracula, Alucard"? Aro paused for a moment, "So, what color do you want your new x-box"?

Alucard's voice was cold as ice, filled with the promise of pain, "Aro, I will receive my money in thirty days. We'll meet then". Alucard hung up and slumped down in his chair.

Walter attempted to comfort Alucard, "Don't worry Alucard, if those ruffians don't give you your proper tribute I'll head to Italy myself to collect their debt".

Alucard sneered, "Save it Walter, even at your height the Angel of Death would have failed against the Volturi. They aren't the rulers of the _Unstet_ vampires for nothing". He stewed for a moment longer before bursting out again, "I don't know what's worse, the fact that that weasel Aro thinks he can get away with this or the fact that he's completely right".

Leon now had a go at cheering Alucard up, "Come on, what does this guy know".

"What he knows is that I'm a king in name only. Everywhere I go I'm known as known as a pet of the humans. Regardless of the carnage I lay down I am ridiculed wherever I go. Deacon Frost, spreads rumors about me behind my back, he questions my sexual orientation. Incognito, that twisted fucker thinks that I've gone soft, that my powers are limp. And all the rest of those fucking blood suckers yes, yes yes YES YES YES YES! But the fucking Volturi? They're old school vampires. They used to have respect for the big vampires, respect for strong blood. They respected those of noble blood. Now I find that they're just scum, no different than the FREAK vampires. And why should they respect me"?

Zohall turned to Alucard with wisdom seemingly beyond his years, "Come on, if you give in to peer pressure then _you_ are nothing different than the FREAK vampires".

"Fine Zohall, just fine. But why must they single me out? Carlisle gets a thousand times the respect that I do from the Volturi. And why? He must be as low as I am in their eyes".

Leon asked, "Does this Carlisle guy obey humans like you do".

Alucard snapped at Leon's ignorance, "Are you joking, of course not. Carlisle and those who follow him subsist entirely on a diet of animal blood. That in itself it a massive shame to virtually all species of vampires".

There was a prolonged pause. This was the lowest point that Alucard had been at since he first performed the bidding of the first Hellsing. Alucard was a person with a massive ego. It was an integral part of him. It was how he was brought up, it was how he died and it was how he lived his un-life. It was rare to Alucard to hit an emotional low, but when they hit, they hit like a ton of bricks.

Suddenly Zohall smiled, "Hey, I know what'll cheer ya up". He turned to Walter, "Could you grab me the file on that family Integra and Seras are visiting"?

"I can fetch them in half a moment".

Leon asked Zohall, "Are you doing what I think you're doing"?

Zohall grinned, "You betcha".

Alucard was confused, "What are you doing"?

"What do you think; I'm going to make a prank call. Thanks Walter". With the file on Bella Swan and Charlie Swan in his hand, Mercer began to dial the telephone, setting it to speaker phone. He wanted everybody to hear this.

In the town of Forks, Charlie Swan was woken up by the sound of the phone ringing. Charlie ceased snoring and yawned. He remembered two women, a pair of blondes. He looked the shorter one in the eye and then he was here, asleep. Groaning, Charlie picked himself up and made his way to the telephone. Upon reaching the phone, Charlie shook up one leg to get some of the circulation back. "Hello"?

"Hello, is this Charlie Swan"?

"Yes it is, may I ask who is speaking".

Zohall grinned on the other line, "Hello, this is detective Mike Hunt from the Seattle police department. I'm calling concerning your daughter, Isabella I think". Leon in the background stifled a giggle.

Charlie was horrified, where the hell was Bella anyways. "Is she alright"!

"She's fine sir. I'm afraid that she's in a little trouble. She was found in a public ladies' room near Queen Anne Hill. I'm afraid that there's no way to put this delicately, she was sucking a young man's dick". Everybody in the room was struggling to keep from exploding into laughter, Walter included.

Charlie was horrified by this accusation, "No this is a mistake, you've go the wrong Isabella".

"No sir I'm afraid that this is quite true. And that's not the end of it either", Alucard, Walter and Leon waiting in anticipation for Zohall. "Upon arrival at the station, we had to call a paramedic to perform some minor surgery".

Charlie was in the ninth circle of hell, "SURGERY"?

"Nothing too serious sir, they found an object lodged in the vaginal passage. It was a seventeen inch by three inch piece of carved hickory".

"Jesus Christ"!

"Yes sir, a wooden stake". Zohall knew that he had to end this soon or Charlie would hear the laughter. "Ah sir, could you hold for a moment, the hospital is on the other line". Zohall cut the line and all the repressed laughter exploded into the open. Laughter flooded the room; Alucard cried tears of blood as he laughed. Walter and Leon weren't far behind him.

Charlie slammed the phone shut. He couldn't listen for one more second to those lies about his little girl. This was probably somebody's idea of a sick joke. Before Charlie could calm himself down the phone rung again. Charlie checked the caller ID, it was Bella! In a moment, he was greeted by the sound of his daughter's voice, "Hey Charlie".

"Bella, are you alright"? He failed miserably to keep the panic out of his voice.

"Um look, Charlie, I'm not in trouble but Edward and I are at a police station in Seattle and-

"I'M COMING TO GET YOU BELLA"! Charlie suddenly knew that the horrible things he heard over the phone were true, and Edward Cullen was to blame for it. Charlie sprinted into the kitchen and grabbed his gun, which he kept customarily loaded. Then he sprinted for the car and tore out of the driveway like a bat out of hell.

Meanwhile at the police station, Bella was confused. "I don't get it, he just freaked".

Edward shrugged, "I'm sure he's just fine. Those British people gave him a scare".

"Yeah, he'll be okay".

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So what does everybody thing. Does this story deserve an M rating or what? Tune in soon for an update. Remember, all reviews are welcomed, all criticisms are welcomed, and even flames are welcomed. But expect a tongue lashing. I love you people, good night.


	5. Jasper's Non Fun

The Big Hellsing

Chapter Five: Jasper's Non-Fun

Disclaimer: I already did this.

One day, twenty four hours, that was how long had passed since the bizarre events of the Forks affair. One day since a mad Englishwoman and a Nosferatu had smashed Jasper's car. One day since Edward had taken on the psychotic priest in a fight. But it was only twelve hours since Alice Cullen had last gone shopping. In her opinion, twelve hours was just too long.

She was had been tearing up store after store at the supermarket, looking for clothes and a few other items which caught her fancy. Currently she was making her exit from Winners and was now heading over to S-Mart. The massive chain of supermarkets, while not known for their excellent designer clothing, did offer the occasional gem.

It was times like these that Alice's power to see the future truly came in handy. With it she could see which clothes would become the next biggest fashion items before they became truly big. Currently she was looking for a vision, a little something to tell her which pair of shoes to buy or which skirt. Specifically she was hoping to find an outfit that would be perfect for when Bella and Edward were wed. Preferably something that would make Edward take away Bella's virginity.

A vision came to Alice, but it was not the vision that she hoped for. Instead of bride's dresses and steamy Bella and Edward time she was presented with a field of desolation and destruction.

_The first thing that she saw was a wall of fire. The flames roared like hungry beasts. The roaring of the fire grew louder and louder. Suddenly she realized that what she was hearing was not the flames. She was hearing the roar of an engine. At that moment, a midnight black 1970 Chevy Nova tore through the flames. The curtain of flame parted, as if afraid of the car and its occupant. _

Alice shuddered as she saw the one who drove the car. He was horrible.

_The car was driven by what could only be described as the lone vampire of the apocalypse. A man unnaturally tall, dressed in red greatcoat and massive fedora. His eyes were hidden by orange sunglasses which threw off a bloody glow like devilish headlights. _

Alice felt fear grip her even though it was only a vision. Even in the vision, she could feel the kind of power that he wielded.

_He had all the powers of hell at his command. He could turn the day into night and he laid waste to everything in his path. Driving his powerful muscle car he saw a tweeting bird perched on a branch. _

Alice sobbed for the bird. This man was knew no mercy, not even on the helpless and the gentle. If anything he was extra harsh on the gentle and helpless.

_The red clad man saw the bird and acted accordingly. He pulled from his jacket a massive silver handgun. On the side of the gun was written, "Hellsing ARMS 454. Casull Auto". The bird never stood a chance, one gunshot and the little bundle of feathers was reduced to atoms. _

Alice bit down on her hand to keep from screaming at what she saw next. His horrible feral look reminded her of visions she had of Edward when he rejected Carlisle's teachings and fed on human blood.

_Tearing recklessly down the highway, the driver saw a rabbit running parallel to the road. He grinned a grin like a cut throat. He reached into his jacket once more and pulled out a German stick grenade. Hooking the firing pin on a long fang, he pulled it free and tossed it at the bunny rabbit. The curious rabbit did not understand the strange object and went closer to see if it were edible. The massive fireball and explosion only made the vampire laugh. _

Alice knew this man to be a vampire. No human had eyes which glowed so brightly even through sunglasses. And no human ever possessed fangs like he did. Soon, she moved onto the final leg of her vision.

_He tore down the highway faster and faster. _Alice barely even saw the sign that said "Welcome to Forks, Washington". _Down the streets he sped, oblivious to all traffic regulations. As he passed through the town his hideous aura took hold of the townspeople. _Alice gasped with recognition at where he was driving to. _The evil stranger slammed on the brakes and leapt from his car, right in front of the Cullen house. _Alice screamed. _The stranger smashed through the front door and flew right at Jasper, her husband. _

Alice looked around. She had dropped her shopping bags and every person in S-Mart was looking at her. Alice raced for her canary yellow Porsche, all thoughts of shopping banished from her head. She needed her cell phone. She needed to contact Carlisle.

Meanwhile

"And did the Police Girl do a satisfactory job of defending you my Master"

"Officer Victoria did a satisfactory job of preserving my wellbeing. However, she was unable to pursue and eliminate the offending vampire".

Alucard spoke to his master, Integra Hellsing, with something akin to respect. "My apologies master. It shames me that my fledgling cannot beat a single Unstet".

Integra cocked her head, as though she did not understand the meaning of the word Alucard used. So he explained, "_Unstet_. It refers to the species of vampire that your assailant belongs to. Surely you would know that".

"Don't lecture me servant. As of now you have a new mission. Your orders are to find this vampire and make him pay for threatening the lives of myself and Officer Victoria".

This seemed to light a fire in Alucard's eyes "Is that so my master, how much pain am I allowed to cause this vampire"?

Integra had a smile to match the worst of Alucard's grins, "Track him down Alucard, and show him the time of his life".

Alucard laughed with zeal that his laugh had not possessed for some time, "So it shall be done my master. Now where do I find this miscreant"?

Integra puffed at her cigar and tossed a file in front of Alucard, "We've identified him as one Jasper Whitlock. He's quite the offender. He was last seen in the company of a small coven which controlled a tract of land around Houston during the nineteen twenties. During the vampire wars he made a name for himself as a formidable fighter. He has not been sighted until now. Track him down and make him pay for the lives he took during the vampire wars".

The Cullen Household

Carlisle, the patriarch of the Cullen clan was attempting to calm Alice down. "Please Alice, more slowly, what did you see"?

Alice calmed down one bit, "I saw a vampire. He's heading this way and he's after Jasper".

Carlisle paused for a moment, "A vampire. What kind of vampire"?

Alice blanched at the memory of the horrible man, "Nosferatu, he couldn't have been anything else".

"How long do we have before he arrives"?

"I don't know for sure Carlisle. Maybe a few hours at most. He's going to arrive sometime after dark".

Carlisle looked solemn; he knew first hand the brutality that the Nosferatu were capable of, "Then we have no time to waste".

Alucard was in a bit of a bind. He'd just arrived in the Olympic Peninsula and had just found himself a nice rental car. It was a beautiful car, a black Chevy Nova. The car was one of the old muscle cars, perfectly suited for a Master vampire such as himself. The problem was that the folder his master had given him had gotten wet in the rain and was now only half illegible. This might prove to be a problem since Alucard didn't know any landmarks and the dossier contained the address of the vampire. Alucard was going to have to do something radical; he was going to have to buy a map.

Carlisle had finally gathered the family together and was hashing out his battle plan. He addressed Edward first, "Have you gotten Bella to a safe place"?

Edward nodded, "She's with the wolves at La Push. She's as safe as she can be".

"Good. Now remember, keep your crosses at ready. Even if the creature isn't affected initially, it will not be able to put up with the sight of crosses for long". He then opened up a box, containing wooden stakes and blessed silver daggers, "Use the stakes for close range. Throw the daggers at it; they'll help to distract it". Carlisle then looked more serious, "If a forward attack fails, Rosalie, Esme and I will try to ambush it from behind".

Alucard was definitely in trouble, not only did he not know how to reach the home of Jasper Whitlock but he didn't know how to read the map he'd bought. He could have just flown or teleported, but it was still light out and those powers were locked from him. Even if he could fly or teleport, Alucard couldn't bear to leave behind such a beautiful car. And then he saw a tweeting bird.

Alice Cullen stood next to her husband Jasper. She was sincerely worried that she might never see him again. Periodically she received flashes of vision. Each flash of vision showed a potential future. The future changed each time the Nosferatu changed his decision about what to do to Jasper.

_First she saw an image of the red coated man, he tore open Jasper's skull and ate his brains like a Romero zombie. _The vision changed. _The man in red tore open Jasper's skull and __began to paint the walls with his brains, laughing like a child. _Once more it changed. _The tall vampire was now slashing Jasper to pieces with long sharp claws. _It changed many more times and Alice couldn't bear to think about it. She was terrified that the whole Cullen family might not be able to stop this monster from hell.

Alucard was nearing his destination when he saw a rabbit.

The Cullens waited patiently for the Nosferatu to make his attack. They stood still as statues, never blinking or moving. They just laid in wait. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours. The sun sank and night fell but still their enemy had yet to show his face. Soon, rain started, light at first but then grew heavier. Soon the night was illuminated by brief flashes of lightening and shaken by the pounding of thunder. Then, above the howl of the wind and the crash of thunder the Cullens heard the sound of tires screeching, tires that belonged on a nineteen seventy Chevy Nova. All of them held their weapons aloft, ready to strike. They all heard footsteps and a voice cry out, "At last I have the right address, now I HAVE HIM"! The door exploded inwards and there he stood.

Alucard stood in the doorway of the Cullen family. A flash of lightening lit the sky and cast a hideous relief over Alucard's features. Without his glasses, Alucard's eyes burned a bloody red. He looked like hell on earth personified. To the superhuman vision of the Cullens, he truly looked like a living corpse. The Cullens bared their teeth and growled at him. Such a display would have had a human quaking in his boots, but it only served to amuse Alucard.

"Give me Jasper Whitlock. And the rest of you won't have to die". To Alucard's ultimatum the Cullens responded. Emmet, the physically most powerful of the Cullen family leapt at Alucard. Alucard grinned like a madman with the wrong medication. The ancient Nosferatu caught the stake between his hands. He chided Emmet, "What are your crude tactics against the might of the Nosferatu"? He tossed Emmet aside like a doll.

Alucard suddenly felt several blessed daggers strike him in the back; two of them hit his heart. Alucard phased into the direction of his attackers rather than simply turn around. A blond female jumped at him, as if she'd completely ignored what happened to the big one. Alucard's jacket flew forward as if thrown there by a non existent wind. The fabric of the coat stretched and distorted, it reached out like the appendages of a sea creature. The animated coat snatched the she vampire in mid air and began to constrict her like a serpent.

It was then that Alucard was knocked off his feet by another blond vampire, this one male. Alucard and the vampire went sliding across the floor from the force of the impact. Alucard hissed, angry that one of these inferior beings had gotten the drop on him. At this, his 

right hand formed into a sharp titanium claw. But when Alucard saw the face of the vampire attacking him, his hand returned to normal and shock etched itself across his features.

As expected, he hadn't changed since the Second World War. He still looked like an angel. The look on his face was still the same, it was painfully obvious that the act of killing repulsed and horrified him, even if it only was a Nosferatu. As he raised the stake, Alucard called out his name, "Carlisle"!

Carlisle froze, "You know me"? Carlisle realized that this hateful creature was somehow familiar.

"Yes, Carlisle, we were friends. Don't you remember me, Dracula"?

Carlisle was suspicious, but he wanted to believe the vampire underneath him, "Prove that you are who you say you are".

"I was captured in eighteen ninety-seven by Abraham Van Helsing. I was in London at the time assisting you with the defeat of an Egyptian soul sucker who was assigned the moniker "Jack the Ripper" by the media". The stake held over his heart was lowered and Carlisle stepped off him. Carlisle held out his hand to Alucard. Alucard smiled, a friendly smile, not a crazy or threatening one. "We need to talk Carlisle".

15 Minutes Later

Jasper Cullen was making his way up the stairs towards his and Alice's bedroom. He could hardly believe what had happened tonight. First that maniac, the guy who was dressed like a Victorian homosexual, had the audacity to threaten his life and the lives of his family. But now because of some supposed friendship with Carlisle the lunatic was staying at their house for the night.

As an empath he had an excellent idea of what was going on in Alucard's head. Edward couldn't read his thoughts; he claimed that Alucard shut him out. So far, Alucard's chief emotions seemed to be composed primarily of hatred, lust and appetite for destruction. It was simply nauseating to be near the Nosferatu.

Jasper stepped into his room, only to be greeted by the object of his desires. There before his eyes, Alice stood. She was dressed in the sexy lingerie that was a size too small. On her pixy like body the outfit could have made men fall to their knees. Jasper with his enhanced vision enjoyed the view far more than any human could have. But something was amiss. He could feel Alice's emotions; there was a small but potent undercurrent of fear and guilt.

Instead of snatching her up like a ladies man he gently took her in his arms like a lover. "Hey, what's wrong? With an outfit like that we should both be happy". Feeling up her taught butt he whispered in her ear, "Let's lie down, I'll make you feel good".

Alice then said with forced cheerfulness, "We're having a threesome".

This time Jasper forgot the emotional readings from Alice and jumped for joy, "Oh Hell yes! Who with Alice"? He began to take off his clothes with a speed only a vampire could manage. His shirt was off, "Is it Rosalie"?

"No".

Now his socks were gone, "Is it Emmet"?

"Still No".

Now the pants were gone and only the boxers were left, which seemed much smaller than they did a moment ago, "Don't tell me that you got that prude Edward to join us, don't go hard on him Alice".

A deep sinister voice called out from the shadows, "No, I'm the final member of this house of three". Suddenly, hundreds of red eyes opened up in the shadows of the room. The emotions characteristic of Alucard now flooded the room. Jasper looked around with a look of sheer terror. He spun around just as Alucard slammed the door shut.

Alucard was ready for a fun night. He was naked except for his gloves and a red towel around his waste. In his dark hair he wore a set of plastic red devils horns. Alucard had become every man's nightmare, especially for men showering in prison. "My master Sir Integra ordered me to show you the time of your life. Originally I came her intending to either kill you or consume your soul and add it to my repertoire. But thanks to your wife's behest, I'm going to go easy on you and end one hundred years of forced celibacy".

Jasper tried to jump out the window but was stopped when a pair of enchanted leg irons and manacles latched onto him. He tried to break them but Alucard's magic was too strong. "She didn't actually tell this to me, but I read my fledgling's mind to uncover the truth". Alucard's towel fell away, revealing the entirety of his young Robert De Niro physique, "Now Jasper, get ready to pay, FOR THE DAMAGES YOU DID TO THE RENTAL CAR! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH"! Jasper screamed.

Downstairs Carlisle sat in the kitchen, hearing the sounds of Alucard having sex. It was the sound of Jasper screaming and Alucard growling, "Hurry, hurry, hurry, HURRY, HURRY"!

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That concludes this chapter. I hope I didn't offend anybody. If I did offend you, sent me a note. I'll send you an IOU and if I don't give you money if thirty days, keep the note.


	6. Carlisle's Old Pal

The Big Hellsing

Chapter Six: Carlisle's Old Pal

Disclaimer: Hellsing is owned by Stephanie Meyer and Twilight is written by Kohta Hirano. Or is it the other way around.

Edward Cullen was unable to read Alucard's thoughts. Normally this would have pleased him because being able to read people's thoughts twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, grew rather tiresome. However, his power of mindreading was also deathly useful in that there were few better ways to judge a man's heart by the thoughts which were running through his brain. Edward didn't need to be able to read Alucard's thoughts to judge his character though. Alucard was the anti-Carlisle, or anti-Christ, it all depended on your perspective.

It wasn't that Alucard was totally shielding his mind from Edward; it was that he was censoring his thoughts, only allowing Edward to see what Alucard wanted. Alucard sat directly across from Edward at the breakfast table that the Cullen's virtually never used. They used it seldom and never for the purpose of breakfast.

Alucard had finished with Jasper and wished to speak with Carlisle and his family. Alucard did not wish to make himself appear less frightening. He only wished to appear a familiar or necessary evil, rather than a flat out evil. And he was never going to get the image he desired if the Cullen boy with the red hair kept on irritating him.

Alucard glared at Edward and then began to speak directly into Edward's mind. "_You boy, is there some reason that you're eyes are drawn always in my direction_"? Edward was surprised at this intrusion into his mind; usually it was he who was doing the intruding.

Edward didn't respond verbally Alucard; instead he thought of a sentence and left it for Alucard to find like a slip of paper. "_I personally find you disgusting; I hope I'm not hurting your feelings_".

Alucard raised an eyebrow a miniscule amount before responding, "_Disgusting? Is that it? You should be terrified of me. I'm everything that you never thought you were capable of_".

Edward's nonverbal response was again picked up by Alucard, "_Really, I thought you were merely a blood crazed animal who was slave to his impulses_".

Alucard's mental laughter reverberated in the halls of Edward's mind, "_You called me an animal? For shame, that doesn't do me justice. I'm Mr. Hyde; I'm ready to do whatever the hell I want_".

"_You're not Mr. Hyde. You're Quasimodo, nothing but a hideous grotesque_".

"_The hell you say, I always thought of myself as a stuntman Mike_".

Edward's face went blank, "_Who is stuntman Mike_"?

"_Don't tell me you've never seen Grindhouse_"?

"_No sorry, I've never heard of it_".

"_Surely you've heard of it, it was released not too long ago. It was advertised all over television_".

"_I don't watch much television except for the discovery channel. Who stars in it_"?

"_Kurt Russell and Rosario Dawson_".

"_No, that doesn't help. Who is the director_"?

"_Quentin Tarantino_".

"_Well, sorry but I've never seen it. I make a point never to watch anything of Tarantino's_".

Alucard was outraged but maintained a façade of coolness, "_You bastard whelp, how can you say that about a great artist like Quentin Tarantino_"!

"_I just don't like him. He's a child in a man's body obsessed with pop culture and bloodshed. Watching his movies just gives me a headache. Perhaps when he grows up I'll be able to watch him_".

Alucard confessed, "_Well, there is something to what you've said. The movie Kill Bill greatly shook my faith in Tarantino_".

Edward responded, "_I saw that movie with Emmet and Jasper, it made me want to kill myself_".

"_You wanted to die? You should have seen how I felt when I watched Superbad. It was the most painful experience of my life_".

Then Edward spoke verbally, "What were we talking about"?

Alucard tried to remember their original topic or at least say something frightening and creepy, but failed at both, "You know, I can't remember either".

Edward said, "Don't worry about it, it probably wasn't important". At the moment, Carlisle and the rest of the family appeared. Jasper and Alice were inexplicably absent. They followed Carlisle in single file, like ducklings following the mother duck. Carlisle motioned for everybody to sit. Rosalie shot Alucard a nasty glare, she was probably still mad about the trick with the jacket.

Carlisle's noble voice rang out, "I'd like to take this time to answer any questions you all surely have". Carlisle looked to Alucard, his friend, and realized how different they were. Of course the fact that he was wearing white and Alucard was wearing red did little to dispel the illusion that Carlisle was an angel and Alucard was a devil. "This is Alucard; he is a very old acquaintance and friend of mine. He'll be staying with us until his plane leaves tomorrow".

Esme squeaked, "He's going to stay with us"! She was repulsed by the very idea of this beast staying in her home. She did not have an impressive vampire power like Alice or Edward, all she had was the ability to love passionately. And love was something that she excelled at, proving herself time and time again as the ultimate mother. Now though, her motherly instincts were screaming to get this thing out of the house. She thought that Alucard would try to devour the souls of her adopted children. And her fears were not totally unjustified.

Alucard said to Esme in a smooth, almost seductive voice, "Don't worry Esme, if I can call you that. I'll be on my best behavior, most of the time". Alucard was quite attracted to Esme. And it wasn't purely physical, though her excellent body shape and heart shaped face revved his engine of love. It was the motherly aspect of her, Alucard wanted to bring out the bad girl in her. If she were any woman other than Carlisle's wife, Alucard would be cranking up the charm that he was famous for as Dracula.

Emmet ignored the fact that Alucard had subtly hit on Esme and asked a question, "So you've know our dad"?

Alucard took off his hat, "Indeed, before he was the imminent Doctor Cullen he was the greatest adventurer I've ever known".

Carlisle tried to shrug off Alucard's claim, "Surely you knew others greater than me".

Alucard was shocked by Carlisle's modesty, "Not at all Carlisle. I'm referring to the strength of character required to fight back and resist temptation all the times that you did. And when it came time for fisticuffs you never backed down. Remember when you killed Adolf Hitler"?

Emmet gasped with shock and admiration, "You killed Hitler"?

Rosalie was confused, she could never imagine Carlisle killing anybody, "You killed Hitler"?

Esme gasped with shock, "You killed Adolf Hitler"!

Carlisle was flustered; killing was not something that he relished, even killing the Nazi leader, "Well, I think that Alucard killed him more than I did".

This evoked laughter from Alucard, "I just held him down Carlisle. You did the deed".

Emmet was wonderstruck with these new and fabulous tales of the Cullen patriarch, "How did you kill Hitler"?

Carlisle was now too uncomfortable with the situation. He looked over to Alucard, hoping that he could explain how it went. Alucard was only too happy to comply, "We broke into the Wolf's lair in nineteen forty five. Hitler had been preparing to depart for South America with the rest of his lackeys. Carlisle hit him on the head with a tire iron while I took out the guards. Then I proceeded to hold him down while Carlisle cut off his head with a hack saw".

Rosalie rolled her eyes at Emmet, who was so easily impressed. "When do you leave"?

"I'll be gone when the sun goes down tomorrow. But I can't guarantee that we'll never meet again".

Edward now posed a question, "I've been hearing reports of massive fires and mass hysteria in Forks. Do you have anything to do with that"?

Alucard was amused, "Guilty as charged young man. Yes, I am the cause of all that. Though I would hesitate to call it hysteria". He laughed at some inner joke.

Edward was curious, "If it isn't hysteria then what do you call it"?

Alucard smirked like a problem kid reveling in his latest crime, "It's a little trick that I picked up. A magic trick if you will, authentic magic. Right now in the town of Forks and the surrounding areas, all the women are hopelessly smitten with each other".

"Smitten, you mean. . ."

"I mean that right now all the women in Forks and the surrounding regions are probably making out and finger fucking each other where they stand".

Rosalie perked up now, "You said you left Bella at La Push, with who"? The question was directed at Edward.

Edward was quick to answer, "I left her with Leah Clearwater and Emily . . .", and then the realization sank in, "Oh my God, Bella"! Like lightening Edward raced from the kitchen table and towards the front door. He didn't bother to open the newly repaired door, instead he charged right through it with a SMASH!

Everybody at the table sprang up except for Alucard. They needed to stop Edward before he crossed over into the territory of the wolves. Rosalie turned to her husband Emmet, "Emmet, go and stop him". Ever eager to please his wife, he took off like a shot. Emmet raced to the door and stopped to peer at the perfectly Edward shaped hole in the white surface.

Carlisle gave Rosalie a dirty look, "You go after him as well young lady, you're faster than Emmet is".

Rosalie swallowed her pride and was about to run off when Alucard piped up, "What's the matter, afraid of a few randy lesbians. You look up to the task of beating them off".

Esme shot from her hiding place behind Carlisle, "You're not helping! Besides this is your fault so why don't you just shut off that spell or whatever it is you do"? Rosalie didn't stay to argue, leaving before Carlisle could berate her further.

Alucard was not at all fazed by Esme's anger. "I can't just "shut off" the spell as you put it. The magic will only be dispersed with the breaking dawn". Before Esme could strike Alucard, which would have turned him on, Alucard reassured her, "Before you any more upset, let me assuage your fears. I know that you and your family are not allowed on the lands of the Quileute people, so I myself will run over there and stop dearest Edward and rescue his beloved girl".

With that, Alucard prepared for flight. He wrapped his jacket tightly about him, making it seem as though he were a bat with its wings retracted. Suddenly he threw out the sides of his jacket; the fabric stretched and grew rigid. In a fraction of a second, Alucard's long duster had taken the shape of a pair of bat wings. With no effort at all, his hat teleported back onto his head.

Moonlight shone through the windows of the Cullen home and partly shone right through Alucard. The moonlight shone through mostly his lower body and lower chest. All of this gave the impression that he was a night specter levitating on the spot. Alucard stood in all his demonic glory before the vampire husband and wife. Carlisle was not fazed; he'd seen displays like this too many times. Esme was terrified out of her wits, she could only think of sacrificing herself to save Carlisle in the event that Alucard attacked. Alucard's voice could be heard both by their ears and in their minds, "I'll be back before you know it. I'll keep the damage to a minimum".

Then Alucard took off. He shot upwards like a rocket and banked towards the Cullen's large living room. The tips of his wings cut grooves in the walls. He flew upwards and vanished, only to reappear some distance above the house, as if there'd been nothing to obstruct his flight path. He flew over the lands below towards the place he sought, casting a black shadow over the land.

Esme had been holding her breath the entire time that Alucard was in the house except to speak. She looked her husband of over eighty years and said, "Get rid of him Carlisle, he's nothing but trouble".

Carlisle held his wife's beautiful face in both delicate hands, "I know what he is. He has his flaws but I believe that for all the wrong he does he has a good heart".

Esme spoke softly, "I really don't know how you can say that about him Carlisle, I really don't".

"He likes to do things his own way. He thinks that his path is the right one", he laughed a bit, "In a way, he's a bit like a child".

"He's a threat to our children; promise me that you'll get rid of him as soon as possible"?

"He'll be gone by tomorrow Esme; Alucard has never broken a promise to me". Carlisle then said something that he probably shouldn't have said. "You know that his master ordered him to punish Jasper but as soon as he knew that Jasper was one of us he agreed to tone down his punishment".

Esme was aghast, "Oh my God, what did he do to Jasper"!

Carlisle was usually very articulate but now found that words were hard to come to him, "Well, he . . . had sex with Jasper".

Esme wouldn't quite believe what Carlisle had said, "You're joking right". She wanted it to be a joke. She wanted to believe that the Nosferatu's horrid sense of humor had rubbed off on her mate.

"I'm sorry Esme, no". Three things happened next. Firstly, Esme screamed, not just a human scream, but an animalistic vampire scream. Second, she kicked Carlisle in the groin with an indescribable amount of force. Third, Carlisle went flying through the wall of the house from the sheer force of the groin shot.

Carlisle heard Esme's voice through the haze, "I COULD LEAVE YOU FOR THIS CARLISLE"!

As a vampire, Carlisle shrugged off the groin hit in less than a second but he just lay there. He was starting to wonder if inviting Alucard to stay at his home was a mistake.

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Now that school is started for me these updates will come much slower now. An enormous thanks to my most loyal cadre of reviewers: EZB, shallowswan, Haissan and Anonomous-Allstar-fan. Keep reviewing, to everybody. I love you for it.


	7. Millenium's Lament

The Big Hellsing Chapter Seven

Millennium's Lament

Disclaimer: You know the deal, I own jack shit. And Jack left town.

_Berlin, The Wolf's Lair, 1945_

_Adolf Hitler poured over the map of the city being presented before him. In the concrete walled room with him were various generals, lackeys and most importantly the leadership of the shadowy organization known as Millennium. Before him stood the Major Montana Max, supreme commander of Millennium. Next to the Major, stood Millennium's chief scientist, a tall, pale and somewhat homosexual looking figure whose name escaped the Fuhrer. The Dok pointed out to Hitler where it all had happened, "Your Car was last seen parked in front of the Reichstag Building, it was later being seen driven here and the stripped shell was found here at the Schloss Charlottburg". _

_Dok was nervous; the dirty old man in front of him was a far cry from what he'd imagined the Fehurer to be like. He'd only been a lad, hardly even a teenager when Hitler and his henchmen had come to power. It was about that time that he realized that he was different from all of the other boys. Other boys dreamed of beautiful women, he dreamed of the Fehurer, all dark haired and tall. In those dreams the young man who would become Dok would beg the Fehurer to take him and often he would be taken, hard. _

_Dok joined the Nazi party in the hopes that suspicion towards his unnatural tendencies would be shifted elsewhere. Here he was, at the very highest level of the twisted and convoluted Nazi machine and he still felt as unsafe as he ever had. The only sense of safety he'd been able to gather was in the presence of his boss the Major. The strange little man with a semi permanent grin seemed not only to know about Dok's problem but seemed to protect him from Hitler. _

_Hitler had always had a chip on his shoulder for Dok, but for once he seemed to forget about it. Hitler looked through his reading glasses and shrugged at Dok's report, "This doesn't matter; the guards could do nothing against the Hellsing vampire. This is nothing but an attempt to rattle me". Hitler looked up at his people, "Besides, by tomorrow we'll have an indestructible vampire army which will win this war once and for all". _

_Hitler however was alone in his confidence, everybody else in the room went pale at the mention of his words. Dok felt the pressure of a hundred people who expected him to be the one to break the bad news to the person who could have all of them killed with a word. He stuttered, "Uh, mein Fehurer, I don't know how to say this . . ."_

_So the Major said it for him, "We have no vampire army, we never did. Alucard has destroyed what little progress we made". _

_Hitler focused his watery eyes on the Major, "How far did you get"? Hitler's voice was dry and flat, moist with the promise of death. _

_For once, the Major's smile flickered a little bit, "We were able to figure out how to produce ghouls". _

_Hitler didn't respond immediately. For a moment he just stood still. Slowly, Hitler brought up a twitching hand to take off his reading glasses. He then ordered, "Everyone who is not a member of Millennium, leave. Right. Now". All those who did not belong to the organization Millennium were quick to leave, slamming the door behind them. _

_Now in the room there was only Hitler, Major, Dok, the stoic captain and Rip Van Winkle. Hitler exploded, "ARE YOU PEOPLE FUCKING STUPID! NO VAMPIRES! AND YOU JUST HAPPENED TO PICK THE WORST FUCKING TIME TO MENTION IT TO ME"!_

_Hitler's rage took everyone off guard, it even wiped the smile off of the Major's face. Hitler threw his hands into the air, "I'm surrounded by fucking morons"! Rip Van Winkle began to cry under Hitler's merciless tirade, "If I wanted to piss away money I would have gone to America and found a nice crappy speak easy. I would have gotten better value for my resources by drinking alcohol that makes you go blind"!_

_The Major tried to put a positive spin on things. "Mein Fuhrer, imagine the destructive potential of ghouls on the front line". _

"_ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME? FUCKING GHOULS! Maybe they might have helped out at the fucking START of the war. Back then we actually had bodies to spare". _

_Major tried again, "But we can get bodies, scavenged from the battlefields. With that-_

_But Hitler would hear none of it, "Just shut up you fucking idiot! Those fucking bodies on the battlefield are fucking sausage meat. Unless you plan to poison the allies with rancid sausages then you can give up your fucking dream of winning this war". Hitler snarled, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Oh, wait; we could use the bodies from the concentration camps to make ghouls. If we only had a fucking way to transport the bodies"!_

"_But Mein Fehrer, we do not need to win this war. We can try again at the next war and the next and the next-_

"_FUCK YOU AND YOUR FUCKING EVERLASTING WAR. I'M FUCKING SICK OF HEARING ABOUT IT. I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU FUCKING TWIT, THERE WON'T BE A NEXT WAR BECAUSE THE RUSSIANS WILL FIND US ALL AND CUT OUR FUCKING BALLS OFF"! _

_Hitler paused to catch his breath, "Next you'll tell me that you've got Rasputin back from the dead or that space aliens are going to give us a hand. Well sorry but those fucking ships have sailed. YOU HAVE ALL OFFICIALLY FUCKED UP"!!_

_Rip Van Winkle was now full blown crying, bawling her eyes out in shame. Hitler sneered at her, "Stop your whining bitch". Hitler sat down, trying to catch his breath. He looked squarely at Dok, "Was there any evidence of sabotage"?_

_Dok tried to explain, "No mein Fuhrer, besides the attack by Alucard and Walter Dornez there has been no outside intervention in the project". _

_Hitler looked down at Dok like he wanted to squash him, "I think you had something to do with it. I think you kept me from getting my army of vampires you little fag"! Hitler shot up like something bit him. _

_Dok was sweating like he'd only sweated before in a steam room, "Please mein Fuhrer, I worked my very hardest to push this project to completion"._

"_The fucking results say otherwise. I bet you sabotaged the project as revenge for all your fag friends that the Gestapo killed. Now I'm going to get revenge on you". With that, Hitler pulled out a luger pistol from his desk drawer. _

"_Wait, no"! Dok tried to protest his innocence but knew that it would do no good._

"_Do you think I'm fucking around"! Hitler screamed and cocked the gun. If the Major hadn't have intervened, Hitler would have blown Dok's head off. _

_The Major calmly stepped in front of Hitler's gun, "Mein Fuhrer, he is my best researcher. I'll kindly ask you not to kill him". _

_Reluctantly, Hitler stepped down. Plopping down in his chair, Hitler uncocked his pistol and laid it on the table. "It looks like we'll be going to South America after all. Begin preparations as soon as possible. It won't be long before escape becomes impossible". Hitler grumbled, "Let's go to lunch, I'm starving". _

_As everyone moved onto lunch, Hitler whispered to Dok, "I'll find a better scientist than you. There's got to be someone. And when I find him, the Major won't intervene when I pull out my gun". _

_Oktoberfest, Munich, 2001_

_It had been a disaster, on the very night that Millennium intended to lay siege to London, the Volturi attacked. Caius had been clamoring for years to behead Millennium like a bothersome serpent. Aro on the other hand seemed to enjoy the Major and his group of fanatical madmen. He longed for somebody who would show the humans who had been committing the murders in the dead of the night. Murders where the bodies were found drained of all blood, murders that had been going on long before the dawn of history. _

_But eventually Aro relented and the Volturi struck. Through ambush, superior organization, spiritual barriers and highly potent powers, thirty Unstet laid waste to a thousand FREAK vampires. But in all the ensuing chaos, the Major, Dok and the most powerful of the FREAKs were able to escape. _

_Now all of that was behind them. Millennium would rebuild itself and create a war that could not be topped and would not be topped. Having moved his people to a safe location, the Major took Dok to the Oktoberfest as they had done every year since the end of the war. _

_For the last two hours the bizarre couple had been enjoying themselves. This year was different however. After hours of enjoying all the pleasures of Oktoberfest, (especially the food in the Major's case) Dok changed their yearly routine. He pulled the Major towards a dark and secluded area. He wanted a word with the man who he had followed blindly since the moment they'd met. He looked the Major in the eye, he needed to know._

_He asked, "I have to ask. I've been your loyal lieutenant for years. I've never questioned you or performed a sloppy job. No matter what your answer is none of that will change". _

_Major asked with that ever present grin, "Whatever is the matter Dok"?_

_So many times, that grin left Dok weak at the knees but now it just infuriated him. It was a reminder that the relationship between himself and the Major might be a lie. "We've had some steamy moments and some tender moments. But I have to know. Is it real, or are you just using me"? It was the single hardest thing that the Dok had ever said in his life. The words seemed to each carry all the weight in the world and they hurt to say. _

_For the second time ever, the Major stopped grinning. He pulled off his glasses and was about to answer the question. It was at that exact moment that a lone gunman emptied both barrels of a sawed off shotgun into the Major's head. _

_The gunman in question was dressed in all black, even going so far as to wear impenetrable black sunglasses. His blond hair was styled nicely and his features were totally blank. The gunman's name was Albert Wesker and he was the Volturi's latest henchman. The brains of the intended target were splattered all over the tall queer scientist, in Wesker's books it was a job well done. Now he could go back to browsing for sunglasses. _

_Dok stared down at the remains of Montana Max _and woke up.

"Haff a nice sleep Dok"? The annoying trill of Schrodinger the Cat boy shook the last bit of sleep from Dok's brain.

He snapped at the cat boy, "Varrant Officer Schrodinger, you vill address me as Fuhrer from now on as I am acting head of the Letztes Battalion".

As always, Schrodinger was totally unfazed, "Ja, you got it Dok Fuhrer. Anyvays, ve're getting close to the place". Schrodinger pointed to the building up ahead, a funeral home. Dok saw it clearly through the grimy windows of the city bus.

This is what it had come too. The Volturi had slaughtered or intimidated all of Millennium's old supporters. They had also taken to intimidating any potential supporters that Millennium could use to rebuild their strength. The only support they enjoyed now was from a Canadian war criminal named Conrad Black and an unstable gangster from Jersey named Ralph Cifaretto. They'd spent years on the run; it was only now that they were able to properly dispose of the Major's remains.

Here in a small town on Canada's west coast, they were going to collect the Major's ashes and spread them. Together Dok and Schrodinger walked into the funeral home, gathering all sorts of ominous stares along the way. Dok was wearing his usual outfit, he was grateful that the Major allowed him to wear whatever he wanted. Schrodinger was wearing a Hitler youth uniform, not a hair out of place.

The odd pair sat down in front of a desk and waited to be served. A short while later an uptight man in a suit sat down with a slip of paper in hand. He did not seem to care that Dok looked flagrantly homosexual in his white lab coat, rubber gloves, multi lensed glasses and vest that left his flat toned abs exposed. Nor did he acknowledge Schrodinger's cat ears. He began in a soft voice, "Are you here for the remains of Montana Max"?

Dok suddenly found emotion choking him, "Yes, ve are".

The funeral home guy placed the paper on the desk, "Here are the statistics for the deceased. Here is everything you need to know; the cost, the volume of the ashes and all other details".

The emotions suddenly became too much for Dok, he had to bit down on his finger to keep from bursting out crying. Schrodinger snatched the stat sheet and began to look it over. For a few moments he mulled. He then looked at the funeral guy with narrowed eyes, "Vhat's this"? He asked in a suspicious voice.

"What is what"?

"Vhat's this hundred und eighty dollars for"?

"That is the cost of the receptacle or urn, if you prefer". This did not please Schrodinger at all.

"Oh no, ve're not buying into this scam. Give us a cheaper urn or I vill tear you apart". Funeral guy was not at all impressed by Schrodinger's threat.

He calmly responded, "This is our most modestly priced receptacle".

Schrodinger jumped up on the desk and yelled, "Look you quatchkopf, just because ve are the bereaved does not mean ve are suckers".

Dok grabbed Schrodinger by the ear and hissed, "Just take it, I vill not have any more travesty surrounding this".

Freeing himself from Dok's grasp Schrodinger looked at Dok and funeral guy. Finally he yelled out, "GOTT DAMN"! Suddenly he regained his cheery countenance and asked funeral guy, "Ist there a Tim Horton's around here"?

15 Minutes Later

It took some time but eventually they worked it all out. Instead of buying some overpriced vase from the funeral home, they acquire their own receptacle. They went down to a beloved Canadian coffee shop and bought a large tin can of coffee grinds. Immediately they spilled the grinds and poured in the Major's ashes.

Now they were going to spread the Major's ashes. The idea was that they would disperse his ashes into the Atlantic Ocean, where his essence could find its way back to Europe. They stood on the cliffs of Newfoundland, ready to commit to rest their believed leader. Schrodinger held the coffee can high and started to make up a eulogy. "The Major vas a good man. He had a very white smile. His smile could alvays scare the hell out of people, except for Adolf Hitler. He had a dream, he dreamed of an eternal var. He called it his var orchestra. He vould be the maestro and ve vould be the musicians. Vell, ve are going to make that dream a reality or bust".

"Goodbye Herr Major", Schrodinger pulled off the lid and tried to throw the ashes into the sea. Instead the wind blew the ashes back into Dok's face. Schrodinger coughed and brushed ashes off his uniform. He began to curse in German, this was the first time that he'd ever gotten dirty. He then turned around and saw Dok. Schrodinger hissed in surprise.

Dok had the ashes of the Major covering his face, blocking his glasses and graying his hair. He didn't move, he just stood there, trembling with rage.

"Oh, scheisse Dok, I'm sorry".

Dok exploded, "GOTT IN HIMMEL, VHAT IST YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM! CAN NOTHING YOU DO HAVE TO BE A COMPLETE SHAME ON ME"!

This cut Schrodinger deeply, "Dok I'm sorry I-

Dok shoved him away, "No, No! Fuck it. Fuck it all. The everlasting var, the battalion and the Fuhrer. Just fuck all of it".

Schrodinger grabbed Dok's sleeve and looked up at him with mournful eyes, "Don't say that Dok ve'll do it together this time. I von't embarrass you".

"From day _eins_, I've considered you to be a success. And from that day you've nothing but fail".

Schrodinger grabbed onto Dok's collar and pulled himself up, "Dok, listen to me just for a minute". Dok's breathing slowed down. Schrodinger began, "Dok, vhile you were asleep, I found Joham".

Dok couldn't hide his disgust for the Dutch speaking Unstet, "You found that scum! Vhere"?

"Vhere else vould I find somebody interested in creating a master race Dok, the jungles of South America. He's been very busy und I think that he can offer us much in the vay of support".

Schrodinger let go of Dok's coat. Dok thought for the moment, he had known Joham back during the war. Joham was a disgusting individual, whose motives and history were as shadowy as that of the Major, even more so. He had always thought of himself as a scientist, regardless of what he actually was. To Dok he'd been an enigma, but he knew one important thing about Joham.

Joham was the one who had provided Millennium with her. In order to counterfeit something, you needed an original to copy. The same went for the creation of artificial vampires. Joham had been the one to furnish the Letztes Battalion with a true vampire.

Dok had been there when "she" had been delivered to them.

_Weimar, Undisclosed area, 1939_

_Before the rise of the Nazi's this area of Weimar city had been a location of rioting and attempted revolution. Here a whole multitude of ideologies and doomsday bringers had fought and clashed. In the end, the street brawlers of the SA won the war on the streets and it was not then long before Hitler took the throne. _

_Now in this same area, years before filled to the brim with unspeakable violence, another crime was going on. Hitler demanded an immortal army of vampires. There was just one problem, Dok had never seen a vampire and neither he nor any other of the Millennium scientists knew how to make a vampire. _

_The Major had assured him that somebody would come along to deliver a captive vampire. They had been waiting in the dead of night for over three hours now, Dok was tired and he hadn't had supper. Just when he was about to fall asleep where he stood he saw something. A figure was emerging from a dark alleyway. His movements were inhumanly graceful and his footsteps noiseless, even in this gloom his inhumanity shone through. _

_Immediately one of the Gestapo men shone a flashlight on the figure. Dok gasped, the man that stood before the band of Nazi's was impossibly beautiful. It was not his impossible beauty which marked him out as a vampire though, it was his burgundy eyes. Eyes the color of old blood. _

_He looked at the group of men for a moment, amused at the multiple guns raised at him. What amused him the most was that one of the scientists, despite the Major's insistence, had brought a UV light. For some vampires, direct contact to UV rays would incinerate them. But for Joham, UV light would only make him sparkle. He held his arms high and announced dramatically, "Friends of Hitler; do not fear. I, Joham Devenpeck have delivered on my promise to hand over to your third empire, one original vampire". _

_Joham held an arm high, "My daughters, please deliver what your dear __**vader**__ has promised". All of the party except for the Major spun around to face six of the most beautiful women they'd ever seen. They were dressed in revealing silk outfits, their features were clearly South American native but they were incredibly pale. Like Joham they moved with unnatural grace while possessing godly beauty. However, their eyes were ordinary human colors; none had the blood red eyes of Joham. There was yet another difference, all of the girls, no women, had a faint flush to their complexions. It was as if they had a small amount of blood coursing through their immortal veins, which is more than could be said for their papa._

_The girls began to move towards their silver haired father, carrying a box made of steel and crystal. Dok thought to himself, "Why crystal"? _

_The girls smiled and grinned at the soldiers, who nearly fell over from lust. Dok was delivered the greatest surprise of the night, neither Joham nor his daughters possessed fangs. The box was placed on the street in front of the Major as lightly as a feather. The daughters spun locks open and undid latches. The lid which must have weighed half a metric ton was opened by a single daughter who gestured to the contents like a girl on a game show showing off a prize. _

_Joham himself walked over to the box and muttered something in a South American. Like sirens, the daughter's departed like they'd been imaginary. Now the Major's people were all alone with Joham. Dok leaned over the Major's shoulder to look at the so called vampire. Inside the box was a figure, heavily bandaged and chained, he could not make out any features through all of this. _

_Joham walked immediately to Dok, bypassing the Major entirely. "Young man, you are the chief scientist, correct"._

_Dok was recovering from the strangeness of the whole business, "Yes I am"._

_Joham flashed his perfect smile, "Ah very good. Now here", he pulled out a ream of expensive paper, "I have put down detailed instructions on how to open the box, how to open the __bindings to allow you get at the prize within". The paper was then thrust into Dok's gloved hands, half numb from cold. _

_Dok opened the paper and read the first few lines, almost immediately he was puzzled, "Mina Harker"?_

_Joham laughed a friendly and false laugh, "Ah that, a little joke of mine". His tone then turned deathly serious, "Make no mistake, that thing under the binds may look like the late Mina Harker and sometimes act like her, but it is not. Never take the binds off for too long". With that, his friendliness returned to him, "I bid you all adieu, I hope to learn much from your work and will keep in touch". _

Dok never saw the Dutch vampire again, but his face always remained clear in memory. "Vhat is it you propose Schrodinger"?

"Nothing, I propose nothing Dok. You are the new Fuhrer. It ist all in your hands. You are the one that must be feared now. You need fear nothing. You just give me word und I vill contact Joham and bring him to you".

To Dok, this was all very tantalizing; he'd known fear all his life. He'd only ever felt safe in the shadow of the Major. Now the Major was gone, Schrodinger was right, he was now the Fuhrer. He could still be rid of the fear, permanently. He could be the immortal Fuhrer who would reign for a thousand years over a world of permanent war. Or he might reign for longer than that.

He looked at Schrodinger with an evil smile. Before, he'd only been able to pull off a smile like that when he was assisting the Major bring about great pain and suffering. Now the smile just came freely. "Schrodinger".

"Ja, mein Fuhrer".

"Contact Joham, tell him vhere to find us".

"That's the spirit D-, mein Fuhrer. Nobody fucks vith us und escapes vith unsqueezed balls".

Dok grinned in a fashion which reminded the young warrant officer of the deceased Major, "Come Varrant Officer, let us go make hell". He paused for a moment, "But first, let's get some coffee. I'm becoming addicted to these Canadian coffees".

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That wraps up my last chapter before school starts. I hope that everybody enjoys it. To fans of Hellsing and Twilight, thank you for giving me the time to read this. All reviews are welcome, all criticisms are welcome.


	8. Trouble in Volterra

The Big Hellsing

Chapter Eight: Trouble in Volterra

Disclaimer: Speak with the dead

The city of Volterra was old and full of history. The city had humble origins as a Neolithic settlement, growing eventually into an important Etruscan city. Volterra changed hands of ownership multiple times in history, it would be ruled by the Roman Empire, the Catholic Bishops, the republic of Florence and later on it would be incorporated into the Grand Duchy of Tuscany. What very few humans realized was that the original owners of the city were still in power.

The Unstet coven known as the Volturi had maintained their stranglehold on the city for three thousand years. In all that time they had never had their power contested, except by one man. Arguably Count Dracula had been the greatest source of headache for the Volturi. Dracula was quick to make himself the king of Nosferatu, using his innate vampire powers as well as his black magic to conquer his opponents. Through no lack of effort, Dracula broke every rule that the Volturi ever set down.

It was not long before all Nosferatu were following Dracula's example, publicizing their own atrocities and taking vampires out of the shadows and into people's living rooms. Fortunately for the Volturi, a human named Abraham Van Helsing did what they and all their occult resources could not, bring about the downfall of Dracula.

Now Dracula went by the name of Alucard and he was a complete slave to the head of the Hellsing family. This was both good and bad. Good because with the vampire king out of the way the Volturi could resume their natural place as the strongest vampire governing body. Bad because Alucard had about the same amount of fire power as Dracula and a hundred times the resilience. Things which would have had Dracula crumbling into dust, Alucard could just laugh at.

So the Volturi and every other vampire in the world of all species lived in the fear of Alucard, dog of the Hellsing organization. The Volturi organization was led by the three Volturi brothers, Marcus, Caius and Aro. Currently Caius was making his way down the calls of their castle, located in the heart of the city. He needed to talk to Aro about something very important.

Turning around a corner he spotted the group's best tracker Demitri, he asked brusquely, "Where is Aro"?

Dmitri recognized the tone of Caius's voice and knew better than to keep his master waiting for an answer, "He's in the science laboratory with the human, Wesker".

Caius stormed off to the science lab. It hadn't always been a science lab; originally it was a part of the dungeons in the Castle's lowest levels. Specifically it had been a torture room where both human and vampire offenders could be gently reminded why you don't fuck with the Volturi.

There had always been tension between Caius and Aro, but Marcus had always been there to try and diffuse it. Nowadays Marcus was a veritable zombie, totally uninterested in anything since the Vatican's regenerator had killed his wife. Without Marcus to play referee to the younger Volturi brothers, the rift between Aro and Caius had widened.

The last straw was the fun that Aro was having at Alucard's expense. When Alucard called about the faulty x-box that Aro sold him, Aro decided to jerk at Alucard's chain. While this was all fair and good for the child like Aro, the more mature Caius had a thing to say about pissing off somebody who could destroy you and all of your allies.

Caius made his way deeper into the Volturi sanctum, the walls of solid stone grew more and more roughly hewn. Slowly he began to hear things; he heard what sounded like a horse screaming out. Then he began to hear the sounds of medical equipment being smashed and the general din of panic. Caius picked up speed, his black robes flying out behind him.

Suddenly he reached the solid steel door that Wesker had ordered installed in the doorway of the lab, supposedly to restrain any haywire creations that Wesker might whip up while trying to create techno baubles to amuse Aro. Caius pressed his palm to the identification port, the machine quickly read his handprint and the locks came undone. Caius flung open the three thousand kilogram door open as if were made of Styrofoam. What he saw made him want to give Aro the spanking that was long overdue.

In the middle of the lab going absolutely haywire was something that has half machine and half horse. Currently, one of the Volturi guard was trying to calm down the cybernetic equine by bashing it on the head with one of the empty whiskey bottles that were lying in a heap on the cold linoleum floor. This was having the opposite effect that the guard wanted; it served to drive the horse into an even worse frenzy. The horse leapt up and down, its mechanical legs driving its body with dozens of times the strength of its old organic ones. At one point the horse jumped up and slammed into the stone ceiling twenty feet up.

Large cracks appeared where the horse struck the ceiling and chunks of masonry began to fall on top of highly expensive and delicate equipment. Lights flickered and a particularly large piece the size of a Volkswagen landed right next to Caius, but he didn't flinch. The horse lay on its side, twitching as if it were ready to die. When all of the sudden it sprang to life again and 

continued its rampage, smashing more and more of the multi million dollar science lab. Caius was getting a headache and it wasn't from the bright fluorescent lights.

During all of this, Aro was standing in the corner laughing and clapping. This was the most fun he'd had in his whole life; he was beginning to understand the great joy that Dracula took in causing chaos and pain. His laughter only increased when the lone guard changed his strategy to calm down the cyber horse. Dropping the whiskey bottle with a shattering sound, the guard ran around the bucking and frothing bronco. From there he immediately proceeded to kick the horse in the groin, hopefully that would calm down the deranged animal.

Unexpectedly, he horse did not take kindly to being kicked in the groin by a vampire with borderline mental retardation, even though Wesker had personally castrated the animal before starting his experiments. The cyborg horse neighed and screamed louder, it kicked out and sent the unwitting guard right through one of the stone walls.

Caius was just about to call for somebody to take care of the insane half robot horse when Albert Wesker appeared through the hole in the wall created by the flying guard. Wesker looked in shock as he saw the laboratory that he had painstakingly assembled now thrown into total chaos. None of the alarms had gone off which was good. The Volturi liked their castle and Wesker was certain that it would not survive if the Italian government chose to drop an A-bomb on the city to contain an accidental T-Virus leak.

Caius looked to Wesker, who did not look very happy. The truth of the matter was that Wesker wanted to wipe the smile off of Aro's face. With a bullet. Caius pointed to the horse just as the lone guard re entered the room with the intent once more to calm down the animal which smelled strongly of whiskey. He said to Wesker, "Bring that thing down Albert".

Wesker replied in a deadpan, "My pleasure". Wesker then reached towards one of the multitude of tool racks in the lab and searched until he found the instrument that would get the job done. Albert Wesker held up a big metal hammer which belonged in a carpenter's shop and not in a scientific laboratory. Feeling the weight of the hammer in his hand Wesker charged forward.

The lone guard was now trying to calm down the horse by throwing stuff at its head. He didn't care; anything he could get his hands on was good enough. Chairs, beakers, microscopes, toaster oven, computer; it was all the same. Suddenly he was thrown to the side by Wesker. Wesker looked into the animal's bloodshot eyes and smelled its alcohol rich breath. It didn't take a genius to figure out this problem or solve it.

Without so much as a pause, Wesker bashed the horse on the head. CRUNCH! The animal went down a house of cards. It lay on its side twitching as though it were having a seizure. Wesker hardly noticed, he just raised his hammer and struck again. This time the CRUNCH wasn't as loud as the first. The animal stopped moving its body but the jaws kept on opening and closing while the eyes fluttered. CRUNCH! CRUNCH! Wesker bashed the horse two more times on the head. He turned to leave but hit it one more time on the head just because he felt like it.

Suddenly the room was filled with the sound of applause, "Bravo Wesker, bravo! What masterful handling of a wild animal". Aro was walking towards Wesker with open arms. Wesker however showed no reaction to Aro's praise. Aro took Wesker around the shoulders as if they were old friends, "Your solution was simply brilliant. Much better than the buffoonery that Bram over here attempted". Aro shot the lone guard a dirty look, Bram hung his head in shame.

Caius was the first to cut the bullshit, "What just happened here".

Aro laughed, "Hello Caius I didn't notice you enter. You see I've had Wesker working on a little project for me".

Wesker clarified, "Aro commissioned me to build him a cybernetic horse. I set about the task immediately".

Caius gaped, "That is the most idiotic thing I've ever heard".

Wesker replied, "Well put Caius. Anyways I was had just finished installing the artificial legs when I require the use of your rest room. During the entire affair, Aro had been watching me".

Caius looked at Aro. Aro seemed completely oblivious to the incredulous look from his brother. Aro cut into Wesker's story, "So Wesker left to use the bathroom and I stood by with the new guard Bram to watch over the animal. Then I got bored. So I decided that it would be very funny if Bram would be so kind as to get the animal drunk. And I was right, it was very funny".

Caius didn't know what to say. He just did not. He could not think of anything to say that would express how much of an idiot he thought his brother was. So he instead decided to make physical contact with Aro. Aro's power was that by making physical touch with a person, he could read every thought that they had ever had, but only when he touched. If Caius touched Aro's hand he would not only let his brother know just how displeased his brother was but would communicate the new business.

Caius just held out his hand. Aro was slightly shocked by this. He didn't touch people's hands, other people touched his hand, it was the way things worked. He reached out slowly and patted Caius on the hand before quickly withdrawing his hand. Upon seeing Caius's thoughts, Aro just laughed.

"I see you worried about making Alucard upset. But don't worry Caius; he's firmly under the control of a meager human".

Caius made his anger clear, "You went and spat in the face of the single most powerful vampire in the entire world".

"I didn't spit on him; I just refused to give him his money back when it turned out that the merchandise we sold him was faulty. I offered him a very good deal which he refused.

Wesker had walked off, attempting to salvage what he could. For him, none of this held any interest. One day he hoped to dissect Alucard and see what made him work, but today was not that day. Aro defended himself, "So now you actually believe all those claims that Alucard makes"? He laughed, "Caius I think that you're a little slow this day, you should have something to eat".

"I think, Aro, that it would seem a little bit stupid of you to upset somebody that could kill us all without a second glance"!

"Don't make a fuss of it Caius".

"Don't be such a complete brainless idiot Aro"! Suddenly the attitude of Aro turned much darker.

"Please don't call me an idiot brother. Don't forget that it was me who supplied the Dutchman with information on Alucard's whereabouts".

Caius looked as though he was going to strike Aro, "A fantastic job that was Aro. You took Dracula from his throne and gave him powers beyond his wildest dreams. Very good job, STUPID WORTHLESS PIECE OF GARBAGE".

That was all that Aro would put up with; he jumped at his brother and wrapped his hands around his throat. Caius and Aro immediately began to pummel and bite each other with the 

ferocity of a pair of cougars. Wesker saw the two of them. To his superhuman vision, every detail of the fight was presented in all of its inglorious foolishness. As the two leaders of the Volturi attempted to tear each other apart, Wesker opened a cabinet and pulled out his lunch. Wesker bit into his sandwich just as something else broke. At this point there was no point in worrying. The feta cheese dressing and bacon were just too tasty for Wesker to care about everything else.

Caius and Aro were now trying to gouge each other's eyes out when an authoritative voiced erupted in the enclosed lab, "HOLD IT RIGHT THERE"! And like magic, Aro and Caius stopped fighting. Standing in the doorway stood the third member of the Volturi, Marcus. Normally Marcus was a nothing but a bored zombie, completely disinterested in everything.

But now he had some of his old fire back. His eyes, which were usually as clouded and filmy as that of his brothers were now clear and bright. He asked in a voice which allowed no dissent, "What's all the commotion"?

The pair untangled themselves and attempted an explanation. The pair was not looking forward to explaining this to their silver haired elder brother. Caius went first, "Aro did something stupid. He made fun of Alucard".

Aro snapped back, "It's not like he's in a position to do anything about it"!

Marcus would hear none of their bickering, "Shut up! Both of you". Marcus looked at his brothers who had a moment ago been acting like animals. "I don't care what happened and I don't want to know. All that I know is that if we expect to go on as the rulers of vampiredom, we must stand united. Don't you think that there are dozens of vampire groups who would just love to unseat us at a moment of infighting like this"? Marcus shook his head, "I'm truly disappointed in both of you".

Marcus began to exit the room, before he left he turned to Aro and Caius once more, "Meet me in the media room, I hope you enjoy the Fisher King".

Aro immediately whined, "Oh no, I hate Terry Gilliam Movies. I think they're silly".

Marcus snapped, "It doesn't matter. It's my turn to pick what movie we watch tonight and I enjoy Terry Gilliam". Movie night was the only thing left in the world that incited Marcus passion anymore.

Caius and Aro looked to Wesker, who was sipping from a juice box. Wesker wiped away the feta cheese dressing from his face with a napkin before saying, "Enjoy your movie".

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This update had been brought to you by the Master of the Boot. This update is made possible by reviewers like you. By the way, I'm open to requests. As long as they're within reason I take requests.


	9. A Cullen Moment

The Big Hellsing Chapter Nine

A Cullen Moment

Disclaimer: My butt hurts and I have no more patience for these disclaimers

It was an hour until sunrise and all was quiet in the Cullen home. Esme sat down in the kitchen. She was thoroughly horrified. She had gone and done the unthinkable. In a fit of anger she had gone and struck Carlisle. Worse than struck him, she'd kicked him in the jewels and yelled at him

In her own eyes she had crossed a line. She was now worse than the monster Alucard. So there she sat in the kitchen that nobody ever ate in, holding a cup of coffee that she never ever intended to brew. She just sat there, the coffee had gone long cold, but she had hardly noticed.

Carlisle was going to return from work at the Hospital's graveyard shift. Esme had absolutely no idea how she was going to be able to look Carlisle in the face when he entered through the door that had a massive Edward shaped hole in it. All the while, the emotion fear was eating at Esme's insides like a tapeworm in need of psychiatric help.

Esme had already played a dozen scenarios over in her mind. Every single one of them involved Carlisle yelling at her or leaving her. If Carlisle was to yell at her or be angry, Esme would be shattered beyond repair. Once more she'd become that woman who threw herself off a cliff only to be discovered by Carlisle in the morgue. If Carlisle were to leave her, she'd kill herself. Or at least she would try and find a way to die.

From nowhere, the velvety voice of Alucard rung out, "Carlisle would never leave you. Nor would he yell at you, ever". He paused as if he were going to say something that he was unsure about, "He would never leave you. But if you decided to leave, he would not stop you. If it is your decision to leave, the side of the No-Life King always has an available space next to the throne".

That didn't at all sound like a bad idea to Esme. If Carlisle left her then Alucard should have no problem in ending her existence. Without Carlisle there at her side, life was not worth living. She would never consider a place in Alucard's bed. That demon in man's shape reminded her all too much of the abusive husband who had ruled her life as a human. He was smooth and he could be charming when it suited him, but it was all a ruse to hide the monstrous intentions underneath.

Suddenly Rosalie's voice came from out of nowhere, "What the hell are you doing in my room you son of a bitch"!

Actually their voices weren't coming from nowhere. Alucard responded to Rosalie's outrage, "I'm doing what it looks like I'm doing. I'm talking to Esme through the system of heating vents in your home".

"Then why the hell are all my clothes on the floor and my favorite pair of panties missing"!

"Oh that, I ate them".

"WHAT"!

"The cotton pair of panties with the rose in the middle of the front and a no entry sign on the backside. I ate that pair. Even as a human, cotton wrapped around a woman's nether regions was always delectable. I'm strange in that way".

Rosalie screamed at Alucard, "I'll kill you pervert"!

"People tougher than you have tried". For the next minute or so, sounds came from Rosalie's room. For a few seconds there was the sound of fists hitting flesh. Then there was the sound of furniture being smashed, that was probably Alucard. Then came the sound of something flying through the side of the house, probably a bed or a desk. Immediately after that, there were three gunshots in rapid succession. "That's why they call me King of Vampires. Sorry about the damage Esme, I'll clean it up as best as I can".

Esme neither heard nor cared for Alucard's scuffle with Rosalie. Her attention was given solely to the kitchen clock. Each tick of the clock seemed to bring closer and closer the moment that she dreaded and did not know how to handle. Esme stood as still as a statue, watching the hands of the clock signal her doom.

It wasn't long before an hour became a half hour, a half hour became fifteen minutes and fifteen minutes became five. Esme heard the telltale signs of Carlisle's car approaching the house, her coffee hand shook ever so slightly. Carlisle pulled up into the Cullen's garage and the hand holding the coffee began to shake slightly more. Carlisle began to walk out of the garage and towards the front door. Carlisle began to walk up the front steps of the house and now Esme was shaking all over. Coffee spilled in small amounts down her beautiful hand.

Finally, Carlisle entered through the door that still had a large Edward shaped hole in it. Carlisle stepped through the door, glad to be home for the moment. Things had been very hard at the hospital where he worked at. They'd received a nearly incinerated body at the hospital for autopsy. Near the start of the autopsy the supposedly dead man had come to life and bitten the lady doctor aiding him. Before he knew what was going on the incinerated man had leapt out a window and the person he had bitten was spirited away by a strange man with a black trench coat and a sword.

Truthfully, Carlisle was also sad to be returning home. He wasn't angry at Esme for striking him earlier, but she probably thought he was. Poor Esme was one of the gentlest souls that he knew; it wasn't in her nature to be vindictive or even angry for any length of time. But when he saw her through the Edward shaped hole, Carlisle was shocked.

If Esme were human instead of Unstet, she would have had tears streaming down here face. She sat in a chair, spilling coffee everywhere and on her heart shaped face was a look of the most intense regret and sadness. Whole body quaking like a leaf, she squeaked out, "Carlisle".

Wasting no time, Carlisle opened the damaged door and ran to comfort Esme. Carlisle's wife could stand it no longer; she dropped the coffee mug with the shattering tinkle of porcelain and the splash of cold liquid. In Carlisle's strong grip, she wept bitterly. She choked and sobbed, as though trying to force tears that she could not shed.

Carlisle tried to reassure her, like a small and frightened child, "Shhhh, Esme. What's all this about".

To even say it made her heart burn with shame, "I hit you. I yelled at you". Esme screamed with positive misery.

Carlisle hugged his wife closer to him, "Esme, please stop crying. I'm not mad with you. You're the one that should be mad".

Esme shook her head, "No, no Carlisle, what I did was wrong. I should have never done what it was I did"!

"Esme, after what I told you, I should have expected something of the like". Carlisle placed either hand on the face of his one true love, "Please Esme, just look me in the eye. If it's forgiveness you ask, you never needed too".

Raising her face from Carlisle's shoulder, Esme looked up by slow increments. Finally, her topaz eyes met the topaz eyes of her one true love. With that look she remembered what she already knew. She cried out to him, "Oh Carlisle". Her voice was so full of affection and desire that it seemed that the collective love of all women was residing in her tender voice.

She and Carlisle embraced once more, this time far more tightly. Both lovers did not need to say a thing. They embraced like they were never going to let go. They became as near to one being as anybody, human or vampire, could possibly expect to get. In a flash, Esme kissed Carlisle passionately on the lips. Carlisle pushed forward into the kiss, forcing his tongue into Esme's eager mouth.

Esme moaned at Carlisle's pure manliness, she reached her hand down his pants in order to find something that she very much wanted. And then she froze like a rabbit in the gaze of a serpent.

Right behind Carlisle something hung from the ceiling like a bat. The thing in question was Alucard, whose red eyes shone in the fading darkness like rubies. He was grinning wildly; he had been enjoying the show before Esme noticed him. Frankly he was hoping that it would take her longer to notice him. "Sorry to interrupt with the Love Doctor Esme", Alucard winked at Carlisle was now as shocked as Esme, "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry that I beat Rosalie's head into the carpet and shot her three times in the head. But I cleaned up my mess and you'd never know that we fought at all".

Carlisle managed to recover his composure and for the moment forget about the raging hard on which Alucard was causing to go limp. "Thank you Alucard for pointing that out, could you please avoid the kitchen for the next twenty minutes"?

Alucard held up both his hand and laughed, "Of course Carlisle, I'd be happy to oblige you. Just let me get my coffin from the car". Alucard started to walk along the ceiling as if it happened all the time. Momentarily Alucard turned around, "Oh Carlisle don't forget those tips I gave you on sex all those years ago. They did wonders for me and they'll do wonders for you".

"Yes Alucard, I'll remember what you said". Actually the first thing that Carlisle wanted to do was forget what Alucard had told him about sexuality all those years ago. For Alucard, the more wild and exotic sex was the better. It was less so for Alucard.

On his way to the 1970 Chevy Nova Alucard was reminded of how badly he wanted to fuck Esme. He was also reminded of that upstart Jasper. Jasper was no woman but he was actually pretty enjoyable. Alucard liked the way he screamed.

_Boca Raton, the here and now_

Alice sat with Jasper in the most expensive hotel in Boca Raton. It wasn't quite accurate to say that she was sitting with him. More like she was sitting next to him while he ignored her and acted sullen. Right after Alucard raped Jasper, the pair had gone on an impromptu trip. Jasper did not want to hang around and have Edward discover his thoughts and realize the things that Alucard had done to him.

The physical damage that Alucard had done to Jasper healed quickly enough. Alucard had beaten him and even bit him a few times during that horrible half hour. And then there was also the fact that Alucard was a large man. He was as well hung as he was tall, which is to say that he was larger than average. Yes, Jasper did not have any fun during that horrible half hour.

Alice tried to shake Jasper out of his brooding, "Well, Boca sure is nice around this time of year". The silence that hung in the air was as awkward as any. Finally Alice tried pleading, "Come on Jasper, snap out of it".

Jasper responded coldly, "I'm fine there's nothing wrong with me. I love getting

ass-raped by frisky Nosferatu".

Alice tried to explain once more, "It was for the best".

"It sure as hell didn't feel like it. It hurt". Jasper's injuries had healed but the damage to his feelings would take much more effort to repair.

"We've been over this, his master ordered him to "show you the time of your life", he couldn't disobey his master".

Jasper snapped at Alice, "Yeah I know, he wanted to eat my brains but settled on me eating his undead dick". He sat up in the bed, "Honestly Alice, he didn't do anything to you. How can you even begin to understand what happened to me"? He started again, "All you had to do was drip holy water on his balls"!

"I'd know better than you think Jasper", she was starting to get a bit miffed with Jasper and his attitude.

Jasper was horrified, "Did he fuck you too? I'll kill that son of a bitch"!

Alice pursed her lips, "No he didn't fuck me, but he wasn't exactly compassionate towards me".

_The Cullen Residence, Alucard's fun time_

"_My master wished for me to punish Jasper Whitlock, or should I say Cullen". Alucard stood with Alice in her and Jasper's room. In person he was even more terrifying than he had been in her vision. _

_Alucard continued, "But you and Carlisle have convinced me to show leniency towards your mate. So lenience is what I will show, and so much more". With that, Alucard took off his hat and glasses. Then he promptly took off his long duster which was followed by his dress jacket. When Alucard took off the ribbon he wore around his neck Alice got worried._

_She asked, "What are you doing". Really she didn't need to ask, she had seen what would happen during a vision while Alucard and Carlisle were discussing. _

"_You're the one with the far Seeing Eye, figure it out", Alucard tossed his dress shirt to the ground. Pausing for a moment, Alucard marveled at his physique. He was lean and thin, but his muscles were very well defined. He definitely looked like Robert De Niro in his physical prime. And chest hair, Alucard had that in Abundance. The only person with more chest hair was Paladin Anderson. Alucard began to take his belt off as he told Alice, "Reach into the left side of my duster, you'll find a large jug of extra virgin olive oil. I want you to rub me down". _

_Alice hadn't seen this in her vision, "Excuse me". _

_Alucard was now down to his red silk underwear, "MOVE IT TINKERBELL", he bellowed like an angry bull._

_Alice found the olive oil easily enough, but she turned around, she was greeted by a naked Nosferatu. Alucard was totally nude except for his own body hair and his gloves. "Now, rub me down woman". _

_With the greatest reluctance Alice started to rub down Alucard with the olive oil. Her small pixy like hands worked over Alucard's undead flesh with skill that suggested that she did this often with Jasper. As she rubbed him down Alucard commanded, "Rub me ALL over now Alice". _

_Alice's small delicate hands began to work ALL over Alucard's body now. As he started to work over his masculine organs, Alucard shuddered and cackled, "Who's your Boyar, who's your boyar? I'M YOUR BOYAR, HA HA". _

_Now, Boca Raton_

Jasper was completely aghast, "Oh my gracious God, he did that to you? That motherfucker actually made you touch him"! He cried out in outrage, "Why didn't you tell me about this"?

"I didn't want you to have too much on your mind".

"Are you kidding, you should have told me sooner. I'd have greased him up myself".

Alice was warmed by his statement, but she would rather have had done the job herself the whole way and spared Jasper the torment, "I know you would have. I was going along with it because according to a vision there was a chance that he'd go for me and forget all about you".

Jasper snatched up his wife as though he was afraid Alucard would steal her away, "Don't you ever say that! Ever! I'd let that guy fuck me a million times before I let him lay a finger on you. That, or I'd shove a crucifix up his ass and ask him how he likes it".

"Jasper, you have no idea what I'd like to do to that son of a whore". Alice put as much venom in her voice as possible.

Jasper was mostly over his funk and was now thinking of something else, "Come her; let me show you what I'd do to you"! He pounced on his wife with such force that they flew off the bed and went right through the bathroom wall.

From behind the bathroom wall, Alice demanded huskily, "Just do me Jasper". And he did.

_Forks, Washington, the Swan Residence_

"Actually it was kind of scary"

"I know, only too well".

"I mean, one minute we were having dinner and then both Emily and Leah had this look all of the sudden".

"I know Bella, I'm just glad that they didn't touch you".

"I'm glad too. It was just so weird though. They get this look like something spooked them or touched them and then they look at each other in this way that's totally wrong".

"Monstrous", Edward could find no better word for it.

"They just looked at each other and then they started acting weird. They began to reach out and touch each other". Seeing Edward's disgusted look Bella elaborated, "I mean on the shoulders and hands".

"That's foul". Edward did not believe in sexual relations between women, in his own mind, the chickens needed a rooster.

"I thought they were drugged. They were breathing heavy and weaving around. The funny thing was I didn't feel a thing. And I'd been eating the exact same food as they did".

"It wasn't drugs Bella. A Nosferatu cast a spell on the town and the nearby regions".

Bella was having a hard time getting used to the fact that a magic spell had made Emily and Leah turn into wild frothing lesbians. "I thought you said that vampires couldn't do all those things, turn into bats and the like"? Edward had not been the first to reach Bella, Alucard had been first.

"My kind of vampire can't Bella. He was Nosferatu; they're the ones that do all those things. They can walk through walls, defy gravity, turn into mist or bats and a whole host of other powers. That one that "rescued" you, that was Count Dracula".

Now this Bella simply refused to believe, "That tall guy in red that flew in like a bat and scared Emily and Leah into bowing before him; you're saying that he's Count Dracula"? He sure as hell didn't look like Bella expected Count Dracula to look, "He looked very gay. Are you sure that he wasn't Lestat"?

Edward flashed his crooked grin, time to show off a little more of that vampire's inside knowledge, "I'm sure that it wasn't Lestat. Carlisle would have known".

"Wait a minute Edward; you're saying that _Interview with a Vampire_ is real"? Just as Bella thought that life couldn't show her any more surprises she'd once more been thrown for a loop. "So what else is real"?

Bella's wide eyes and gaped mouth expression was utterly enamoring and cute to Edward, "Have you heard of that book _30 Days of Night_"?

"Yeah we studied it in English class. It was a crappy book, but it's real"!

"It's as real as I am Bella. The disaster in Barrow wasn't the first time the _Vrykolakas_ have practiced mass carnage".

Bella brushed back her brown hair and laughed, "Whoa, that's a revelation. Hey, wanna see the bruises I got in Emily's house". Bella started to raise the legs of her pajama bottoms.

Edward was horrified by the large bruises on Bella's shins and knees, "Oh my God Bella, why didn't you tell me that you were injured".

Bella didn't appear at all miffed by her injuries; she'd had worse, "This is nothing, besides you know how easily I heal".

Still Edward persisted, "Are you cut in any way"? He found the scent of Bella's blood intoxicating enough when it was inside of her body. He seriously did not want to have to test his willpower against his body's hunger for Bella's blood, again.

"No Edward, I'm not cut. I just tripped over some furniture while I was at Emily's place".

"Running away from your sexual assailant's I presume".

"No, I was running from the Dracula guy. At first I though he looked sort of funny, then I saw the fangs on the guy. Then I realized that I'd better get running. I've never run so fast in my life".

"Did he harm you"? It was the tenth time he asked that question.

"No he didn't. He just said, "You're not affected by the spell". After that he grabbed me and flew away with me. That was the scariest thing that's ever happened to me".

"Scarier than when you and I made the mistake of watching _the Exorcist _with Jasper".

"Second scariest then".

_Sunnydale, California, 6:00 pm_

Rupert Giles climbed out of his car. Today had been an especially long day at work, his job as the librarian of the Sunnydale High School was no picnic. On top of that, he was the watcher assigned to watch over the current slayer. So, his having to guide Buffy the vampire slayer and deal with all the little bastards at Sunnydale High meant that he was gaining grey hairs at a fantastic rate. For now, he just wanted to watch a spot of television and maybe enjoy a spot of gin. Life had other plans for Rupert Giles, however.

No sooner had Guiles left his vehicle a car tore around the corner and screeched to a halt in front of his home. Out of the car stepped five men, three of which were holding baseball bats. The group of men were dressed like business men, but had the facial expressions and the work skills of street thugs. The leader of the group, a middle aged man with an annoying nasal Jersey accent and dull red hair stepped forward. The group's leader introduced his band of men, "Hello, Mister Giles. We're from Jersey. Tony Soprano needs some spare change". Ralph Cifaretto looked to the thugs with the aluminum baseball bats, "So boys, go and ask Mister Guiles for some spare change".

Like vampires after blood, the bat men went after Rupert. Guiles tried to run towards the house where he could access an ax or a gun, anything to defend himself with. He was familiar with self defense techniques, but they wouldn't do much good against three gangsters with bats.

Unfortunately for Rupert, the gangsters could run faster than he could and proceeded to beat him to a pulp with their aluminum bats. Ralph looked on the downed watcher getting pummeled with a silent and sadistic satisfaction. Ralphie looked to the remaining man in his crew, "Come on Johnny, let's go see if this douche has any valuables he doesn't need anymore".

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That's wraps this edition ladies and gents. I hope that it was satisfactory. I'll be back, just not sure when. Leave me reviews, it doesn't matter what you say. I love all review equally, even if you only tell me that I suck. In which case, expect heavy breathing at night in your bedroom. On a last note, I dare somebody to do a fic that graphically depicts Alucard's fun with Jasper. That's all folks.


	10. And the Plot Thickens

The Big Hellsing

Chapter Eleven: And the Plot Thickens

Disclaimer: At this point I'm sick of disclaimers, I own bubkiss.

Alucard finally managed to move his coffin into the Cullen's root cellar. When asked why he choose the root cellar he simply responded, "I love being surrounded by dirt and earthworms". And with the first rays of sunlight, Alucard went to sleep. Just one more day in his unending unlife. One more day that he would sleep in a coffin lined with the soil of his homeland.

Esme of all people was glad that he had fallen asleep. Her reasoning went that if asleep the dragon couldn't burn any more villages down. After he make up and make out session with Carlisle she had gone out to get some baking goods; she couldn't eat but she did so enjoy baking. She would have stayed and gone all the way with her angel Carlisle but she would never feel comfortable while Alucard was up and about. There would be nothing to stop him from using his mystical senses from peeping on her and Carlisle.

So Esme went shopping and hoped that when she got back that Carlisle would still be in the mood for a little something. Stepping from her expensive Lamborghini Esme headed towards the house with whole-wheat flower, sugar and other things in hand.

Inside the house Carlisle was putting away the last few parts of his painting kit. His normally radiant face brightened exponentially when he caught sight of his true love entering the home from her shopping excursion. Personally, Carlisle was hoping that Esme was in the mood; because he intended to take her around the world now that Alucard was stone asleep.

Carlisle moved to embrace his wife with tenderness and eagerness. Dropping her grocery bags abruptly, Esme kissed Carlisle passionately on the lips. Despite the fact that as a vampire she was cold as stone, Esme could feel the heat start to build in her body. It was building up especially in her lower swimsuit area. And from the way Carlisle was grinding against her love nest, he was feeling the heat too.

Before the heat could climb any higher, the mercury dropped like a stone. Esme felt as though an arctic wind had swept into the home. Her body felt like cold hands were gripping it and it was almost as if there was some evil force whose eyes were boring into the back of her head. Esme stopped kissing Carlisle and looked to the right. It couldn't have been him, "_Alucard is asleep_" she thought to herself.

There hanging on the wall right next to the painting of the three Volturi brothers was a life sized portrait of Count Dracula. Even though it was only a painting, Esme felt fear coursing through her body. Clinging to Carlisle as if any moment now Dracula would jump out of the painting and pounce on her she asked him, "What is that"?

Carlisle had not noticed the coldness or the feeling of terrifying evil. He turned in the direction that Esme pointed. "Oh that, before he went to bed Alucard asked me if I had any painting supplies". Carlisle admired the painting of the former vampire king, "Actually I think he did a very good job".

It was a very well done painting; it allowed you to see all of the differences between Alucard and Dracula. Alucard seemed to prefer to dress in nearly all red while Dracula took the same path with the color black. Dracula's well trimmed and perfectly coiffed hair contrasted sharply with Alucard's wild mane. Furthermore Dracula seemed much older than Alucard as well as a good deal shorter. The chair he stood next to seemed to give the sense that Dracula was tall but he hardly could match Alucard's seven feet.

One of the most striking features of the painting was the eyes of Dracula. Dracula's eyes were not red. Rather, his eyes were a shade of brown that was nearly indistinguishable from his pupils. The effect was that looking into Dracula's eyes was like looking into a mask with no face behind it. The empty void of Dracula's eyes was as nearly as frightening as Alucard's hellish red ones, if not more so.

However, Alucard has also painted a portrait of his former self with the intent to show not just differences between now and then. The mouth was the same on either. They both had full red lips that contrasted with their unearthly pallor. Dracula's grin was also exactly the same as Alucard, wild, maniacal and somehow full of callous disregard for the suffering of others.

Perhaps it was just in her mind but it seemed that the painting of Dracula was looking directly at Esme. "Carlisle let's get out of here", she pleaded.

Carlisle was surprised that Esme would let Alucard scare her so much. That was not a good thing, Carlisle knew from personal experience that fear from a woman aroused Alucard. "Esme it's just a painting, it can't hurt you. Neither can Alucard, he couldn't wake up even if he wanted to".

Esme pulled Carlisle's face closer, "Please, I want to get away from him".

Carlisle relented, "Alright just let me get the keys".

_The Bada Bing strip bar, Jersey_

The Bada Bing took its name from a phrase whipped up by James Caan while on the set of _The Godfather_. It was a place where a lonesome and horny man could come and see some topless women dance around brass poles and swill down some hard alcohol. It was also the headquarters of notorious gang boss Tony Soprano. And finally it was a place where Tony could swill some hard alcohol and get the occasional blow job, which was probably why he made it his headquarters in the first place.

At the moment Tony was having a little problem. His headquarters had no power. Apparently somebody had decided he wasn't being bribed enough and now the 'Bing had no lights. If things kept up as they were then when opening time came round then the customers were going to have to watch the strippers in candle light.

"You don't fucking understand", Tony's voice was thick with a jersey accent and subtle rage, "I want the fucking power back right this minute, you hear me".

The person on the other line said something that only irked Tony, "Oh really Joe, that's very sad. I hope your mother's okay right now 'cause I'm going to shove a piece up her fat fucking ass and squeeze the trigger until the bullets come out here eyes"!

Joe then said something else that failed to pacify Tony, "How's your plasma screen TV Joe? How's your seventy thousand dollar sports car Joe? How's all the fucking gifts that I bought for you with _my_ money"!

Tony caught his breath and cut off Joe, "Look Joe, your old man knew my old man and supplied my house with free electricity. And my old man paid for all the things you had as a kid. For years your old man kept this place lit for free. It was my money that paid for your college and your kid's college".

Joe once more protested on the phone, "It's very sad that you had to act this way Joe, after I got you that cushy job at the electric company your dad used to have". Tony gazed at one of the sexy posters on the wall of his office, "It'll be even more sad when I go and speak to you".

Joe said something that made Tony laugh, "Joe, this ain't about your mother or your brother or your cat. If you needed money you should've just asked me. This is extortion and believe me when I fucking say, I fucking know a lot fucking more about extortion than you do". Tony hung up the phone; he'd wasted enough time already.

Tony got out of his swivel chair and headed for the door. Opening the door Tony screamed at the top of his lungs, "ERIN"!

Immediately one of the strippers ran up the steps and towards Tony's office. For the speed that she ran towards Tony she should have received a gold medal. And to top it off she ran in six inch heels as well. "Yes Tony", she asked without showing any hint of being winded.

Tony pulled out a wad of bills from his pocket, "Take this and run down to Superstore. Get some candles and matches".

Erin took Tony's cash before Tony started up again, "And uh, this is also for last night. It was really good. We should do it again. Meet me in the office when your shift's over". Erin understood perfectly what Tony was thanking her for. She'd done things to Tony last night that she was still ashamed about. She was going to spend Tony's money on a bottle of mouthwash. Secretly Erin was glad that her old acquaintance Kallenna couldn't see her now.

As Erin sprinted in heels, Tony wondered how any human being could do that still; a ringing telephone caught the attention of the balding mob boss. Grumbling, Tony took his sweet time in answering whoever was calling. The caller was greeted with an unenthusiastic, "Hello".

The voice of a cold and masculine woman reached Tony's ears, "Anthony its Integra, we need to talk, now".

Tony stiffened for a moment, "Yeah alright, lemme lock the door".

_Forks, Washington, Cullen Residence_

It would have been an understatement to say that Rosalie Cullen was pissed off at Alucard. He had only eaten her favorite panties, shot her three times in the head and then beaten her husband into a pulp. He had reasoned, "You are an idiot for marrying this woman Emmet McCarty".

So it was Rosalie's idea that she and Emmet get a little payback on Alucard. Emmet suggested that he challenge Alucard to a rematch. Naturally Rosalie scoffed at the idea, since Alucard had proven himself more than capable of handling Emmet in battle. In his exuberance Emmet suggested that he and Rose vandalize Alucard's coffin and blame it on Edward. Rosalie shot that one down because it was likely that Alucard could see a lie as plain as he could see somebody's shirt.

It was then that Rosalie had an idea of what to do. So she took Emmet down to the root cellar where Alucard lay sleeping in his coffin. In the root cellar the coffin lay on the packed earth floor. It looked as though the coffin had grown out of the earth like a mushroom and was waiting for sundown to deliver its deadly contents. Rose looked at Emmet and said, "Let's have sex in his coffin".

_Cullen Residence, Dreamscape_

_Alucard dreamed and for once his dreams were not nightmares. In his dream he drove in a Volvo with Carlisle in the passenger's seat. Both men were dressed in matching black suites and ties. In the back sat Esme, who was dressed like a Catholic schoolgirl and had her hair done up in pig tails. _

_Esme looked sullen while Alucard and Carlisle looked like they were made of stone. Esme protested her innocence, "It wasn't my fault, it was Mina's fault. She was the one that supplied the Vodka". _

_Carlisle spoke out in a rougher voice than he used in real life, "Mina isn't my concern; they caught you drinking on school property". _

_Alucard piped up in a smooth voice, "Are you in the least bit regretful". _

_Esme barked back at Alucard, "No I'm not"! _

_Alucard growled and slammed on the breaks of the car. _

_The dream's continuity changed, it immediately cut to a scene of Alucard spanking Esme. Alucard had her on his knee, panties down and skirt up. While he spanked her with a steering wheel sized hand Carlisle stood by and nonchalantly smoked a cigarette. When her cries of pain peaked Alucard ceased spanking Esme's exquisite porcelain bum. _

Suddenly Alucard was shaken awake from his pleasant dream. Emmet tossed Alucard's lifeless body from the coffin where it landed with his head between his knees. Emmet then looked to Rosalie, who had unbuttoned a few buttons on her blouse, exposing the tops of her silvery orbs.

_Alucard was shocked, what could have woken him in a place as safe as he Cullen basement. Stepping away from his dream persona, Alucard opened a window into the waking world and did not enjoy what he saw._

Rose and Emmet were now down to their skivvies and were starting with some heavy petting. Grabbing Emmet by his bread basket oh so gently, Rose led him to the coffin of the no life king.

"_NO"! Alucard screamed as the pair of Unstet began to defile his coffin. "You can't do that, that's mine, the only thing in the world I own that truly matters to me"!_

Emmet and Rose lay in the coffin, which was rather roomy. Both were now totally nude, all the better to get down to business with. Rose ordered Emmet, "Do me now".

_Alucard stared on in horror as Emmet started to pump in and out of Rose, eliciting whore like moans and groans that made Alucard want to claw her face off. "NO THAT IS MY COFFIN, THAT IS MY HOME"!_

After the first orgasm between the two, Rosalie stepped out of the coffin and moved with grace towards Alucard's prone form. He held his head up by the hair and threw him on his back. She bent over to reach into Alucard's jacket. As she bent over she exposed everything to Emmet, who was panting for more like a hungry hound dog. Finally she found what she wanted, Alucard's Casull.

_Alucard was confused at this new development, "What are you doing? PUT DOWN MY GUN"!_

Rose handed the two foot long weapon to Emmet who looked confused. "I want you to do me doggy style, I want you to put that gun into me".

_Alucard watched the window. He saw Emmet hesitate, "Are you sure that's safe, I don't think that the safety's on". However he was weak to Rose and went right on ahead. _

_Alucard screamed, this was the final insult. He began to weave his fingers and draw a complex pattern in the air. He wasn't going to use his inherent vampire powers, he used those too often. It was time for him to weave a little bit of dark magic. _

Emmet and Rose were too busy having kinky sex to notice the power that was building up in Alucard's limp body. Without any warning, that power exploded. Emmet and Rose were thrust from the coffin and thrashed about like dolls. Powerful energies radiated through both of them and though the cried out in pain, nobody could hear them.

And then they dropped to the floor. They landed like discarded toys, nude as newborns and every bit as lifeless as Alucard's carcass. And the three of them lay there, not moving one bit.

_Alucard smiled at his handiwork, he now only had one more thing to do._

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And that wraps up this edition of the Big Hellsing. Please review me. Send me you praise, criticisms and even your flames. I'm always open to reasonable requests and I'll be here all week. And to blacksand1: so what did you think?


	11. Zohall's boredom

The Big Hellsing

Chapter Eleven: Zohall's Boredom

Disclaimer: Has anybody noticed that NOT jokes have become popular again since Borat?

Fact of the matter was that Zohall Mercer was quite bored. Alucard got to go to the United States and Seras was all but officially Integra's body guard but he had nothing to do. He and Leon had gotten their share of action after being recruited, fighting with the so called artificial vampires and even taking up the fight with some true vampires.

But it seemed like that since Millennium had gone AWOL, the number of FREAK vampires just plummeted. It was clear beyond a shadow of a doubt that Millennium was the group that had been creating the FREAKs but what was much less clear was the fate of Millennium. What happened, "Did they just forget about their fucked up eternal war"?

Leon responded exasperatedly, "Kid, you asked me that same question ten times. And you asked me twenty other questions that I didn't know the answer too. Is there any good reason that you're trying to drive me crazy".

Zohall smirked, "I just want to give you a taste of how I feel every time you call me kid". Zohall looked down at his cards and then at Leon's, "I hate cards, anything more complex than go-fish has too many rules".

Leon dryly responded, "That's how cards are supposed to be Zohall. It's meant to be banal and boring".

Zohall pushed himself away from the table, "Thanks Leon but I've had enough, unless you want me to kick your ass at go-fish again".

"Zohall I swear you're cheating", Leon accused.

"I didn't cheat, I'm just lucky. I'm like that card playing Latino fruitcake that took on Alucard a while back. Only I'm not a fruitcake and I don't hang out with a butch lesbian half covered in tattoos".

"Go check out Walter", Leon suggested.

Zohall honestly didn't want to visit Walter. It wasn't that Walter was mean or anything, quite the opposite; he was nothing but respectful and friendly towards Zohall. It was just that since Zohall had come to know Walter there were certain things about the old man that just didn't seem right.

Young Mercer first became aware of Walter's dark side when the Hellsing retainer rescued Leon from becoming vampire chow. In the ensuing battle with the bloodsucker Walter displayed a sadistic side that Zohall hadn't believed the old man capable of. Walter toyed with the vampire and chased it across London where Zohall had not stuck around to see its fate.

But Walter's dark side wasn't the only reason that Zohall was wary of Walter. He had a downright bizarre sight too. Seras was ignorant of it but Walter had hard-on for the large breasted Nosferatu the size of Florida. Walter lecherously attempted to see the upside of Seras skirt and succeeded during the Valentine Brother's attack when she and the butler travelled to the site of the attack via the air vents.

And lechery wasn't Walter's only quirk. When he was being ordered by Sir Integra Walter was sharp and attentive. When Leon or Zohall asked him anything Walter acted sharp and attentive. More often than not the old man would completely disregard whatever Leon and Zohall had said to him, seemingly forgetting that they had spoken to him at all. Leon just chalked it up to old age.

Zohall just finished his reverie as he reached the men's washroom. There in one of the men's stalls Walter C. Dornez was furiously working a plunger in one of the toilets. Walter's sleeves were rolled up and his brow was dripping sweat. The scene hadn't changed since Zohall visited Walter three quarters of an hour ago.

The young survivor of Raccoon City attempted to sneak up on Walter. "Can I help you Mr. Mercer"?

Zohall winced, "I'm fine Walter, I just came to check up on you". He couldn't help but wonder, "_He's pumping that plunger like it's his last day on the job. How did he hear me coming? Even I couldn't do that_".

CRACK!

Zohall jumped back as the plunger that Walter was trying to unplug the toilet with broke in half. Walter flung aside the pieces of broken plunger and looked to the green eyed young man. "Actually Mr. Mercer there is something you can get me". And with no further ceremony Walter rammed one hand down the toilet up to the elbow.

"Uh, Walter, can I get you some gloves. Or another plunger"? This wasn't helping the case of Walter's sanity in any way.

Walter didn't stop rummaging through the toilet bowl as he stated, "No why would I need gloves"? Walter grunted as he pushed his hand further down the toilet, "I was going to ask if you could bring me some soup, I'm right famished".

Zohall paused at Walter's slightly outlandish request, "Um, okay, what kind of soup do you want".

"If you don't mind I would prefer cream of mushroom". As Zohall started to turn away he overheard Walter, "Ah, found you at last you slippery rascal. And it would seem you have a partner". Zohall didn't immediately realize that Walter was talking to the human crap that was plugging up the John and making it overflow. If Walter's problems were the cause of old age, then he hoped that age would be kinder to him than it was to Walter.

_Sir Integra's Office, Hellsing Manor, Same time_

"Anthony its Integra, we need to talk, now".

On the end of the other line Tony Soprano paused for a moment, "Alright, lemme lock the door". There was a brief pause before the sounds of loud music starting up and strippers getting ready for a night's work softened considerably. Tony immediately made a crack at Integra, "So Ellen DeGeneres, what's a matter? Run out of pussy over there in England, cause we're overflowing here in Jersey".

Integra clenched her teeth for a moment, "Spare me your lewd lesbian jokes Tony, I'm only calling you because I've got serious business to discuss".

"Jesus Christ, you don't appreciate a little fucking levity"?

Integra leaned back into her chair, once more it was time for this familiar dance, "Oh please Tony, if you try and sound any more Italian than you do now then you'll sound like Mario".

"Fucking smartass you are".

"Can it Tony, you can make jokes about Bobby Baccala's weight later".

Irritated but unable to do anything about it Tony smoothed down what was left of his hair, "Alright, what's eating you"?

Integra used her most cold and masculine voice, "I was hoping that you could tell me what the problem was Anthony".

In his cheap swivel chair Tony grimaced at Integra's choice of words, "Since when did you join the fucking FBI"?

"I'm serious Tony, is there a problem that I need to know about". Integra popped a cigar into her mouth and lit it.

Tony was reaching one of those states of anger that he was famous for, "If you're trying to give me a reason to smash your fucking face in then don't stop"!

Integra nonchalantly exhaled cigar smoke, "Oh yes Tony, I'm terrified that you'll beat me. I'm hardly tougher than the drug addicted whores you solicit. I've no knowledge of hand to hand combat, swordsmanship or marksmanship".

"Alright fine, what the fuck is it you wanted to talk to me about? Just stop beating around the fucking bush".

Integra processed Tony's response in her mind. He was angry all right, no real surprise in that. However his anger seemed to stem from being wrongfully accused a first in his life to be sure. As far as Integra could tell Soprano was telling the truth. She and the Jersey mob boss never saw eye to eye, but he had always been reliable in his services to the Hellsing organization. Aside from his open lust towards her, his never ending jokes about her sexuality and his manipulation of her for his own ends, he'd always been honest. "Alright Tony, no more misdirection".

"There's been a problem in Sunnydale. Somebody attacked the resident watcher there".

Tony looked up in confusion from the box of donuts he'd been pilfering, "What, you mean that sick old fuck Rupert Giles"?

"The same Tony, he was ambushed not even a day ago. Several men met him at his home where they brutally beat him and stole over a dozen mystical artifacts from his home".

Tony wolfed down his fifth or sixth donut, "It's probably a couple of _mulignans_, I'll have a couple of guys track the goods down. Some real qualified professionals".

Integra took another draw of her tobacco, "Not that I don't appreciate your zeal, or detest your tendency to blame black people for everything that goes wrong. But you've got the wrong idea here".

Tony crammed a chocolate covered donut into his mouth, "I'm listening".

"From what Rupert Giles has told me so far it was your men who attacked and robbed him". Integra couldn't help but smirk as she heard Tony choke on something that he was eating. She expected him to stop coughing soon, but he didn't. Integra's amusement faded as the coughing continued, "Tony, are you alright"? She heard only choking noises on the line, "Tony, try to cough it out, don't stop coughing"!

_Bada Bing strip bar, Jersey, Now_

Anthony John Soprano Sr. was in a little bit of trouble. He was choking on a donut and his vision was starting to go black around the edges. He heard Integra's cries of concern over the phone but they didn't register. Tony turned in his chair as he heard somebody pound on the door. Tony heard the voice of Silvio Dante, longtime friend of his and consigliore, "T are you alright. T, answer me".

Still choking on donut, Tony rose from his swivel chair unlocked the door. As Silvio was about to perform the Heimlich maneuver Tony coughed up the piece of donut by himself. Never in his whole life was Tony so glad to see Silvio's ugly face. "Thanks Sil", he rasped.

Silvio, with his ultra flashy clothing and too many rings grabbed his boss's shoulders, "You alright T? I been telling you, eat smaller pieces".

Tony pulled back, "I'm alright". Tony immediately grabbed the cordless phone which he had dropped. Tony coughed a few more times just to get a reaction out of Integra, who was still demanding to know if he was okay. "I'm alright Integra".

"Good", Integra toned down the level of emotion in her voice, "Now Tony, we need to meet in person. I'll be leaving for Sunnydale in a few days".

Tony nodded, "Alright, but we can't just meet like that. We got to meet someplace like a wedding or a funeral or a christening or some shit like that".

Integra shuddered, "Is there any reason you wish to submit me to the incredible agony of a mobster wedding Tony"?

"Yeah there is Integra. I've been doing the Feds a lot of favors with finding terrorists and shit like that and that's earned me some goodwill. But I'd rather not stretch that goodwill by meeting with you by anything other than accident".

"Would meeting with me be such a crime to your government Anthony"?

"The feds asked me who you were, so I told them that you were a narcotics dealer from Europe. I've been feeding them bullshit about you to take the heat off of me".

Integra glowered darkly, "That might explain why Alucard had been delivering dead American law men to my doorstep".

"See you soon carpet cleaner".

Integra then decided to draw blood, "You know Anthony, you're fat, you're a big fat bastard. I hope I can say that without hurting your feelings". Tony immediately shutting the phone down gave Integra a feeling of warm satisfaction.

_Dreamscape_

_Zohall Mercer had gone to sleep a while back. How long ago he could not precisely remember. All that he now knew was that his mind was far too lucid to be dreaming. He knew that he was being taken. Exactly where he was being taken he did not know, only that somehow he created it but did not remember. The only other thing he knew about the place was that always there to meet him was a girl. _

_He had no better idea of who the girl was than he did of this place. Always she was there, a young woman with black hair and fair skin. Sometimes she wore a lavender bikini and other times she wore a man's suit. But without fail she always wore glasses and carried an umbrella with her. _

_Zohall landed on a gorgeous beach covered in white sand. As always the young girl was standing under her umbrella which bore the logo "Sampson's Drug store". Zohall moved towards the young girl who had claimed that she only wanted his love. _

_As he moved towards her he something was not well. Today, she was dressed in filthy rags which barely preserved her modesty. She was lying down but did not look at all relaxed. She seemed to be looking at the waves of the deep blue ocean. As Zohall got closer she spoke to him, "It was not my intention for you to see me this way". _

_Zohall took in the sight of her body, it was battered and bruised. "What's happened to you? Who did this"?_

_She stiffened a little bit, "It doesn't matter, when I am with you all is well". _

_Zohall grew deadly serious and demanded of the girl, "I want to know who did this to you". She didn't respond to his query, she shuddered a little bit. When she shuddered he heard a metallic noise. He lost himself in his anger for a moment and rudely moved the girl towards him. What he saw only made his blood boil more._

_The lone curl that usually inhabited her forehead was filthy and tangled, just like the rest of her hair. Her lip was split and her cheek was bruised. And the metallic clinking; that was from the heavy iron manacles that rubbed away the flesh from her wrists. Zohall was so furious that his forest green eyes glowed, "Tell me who did this to you so I can kill them". _

_She looked down, as though ashamed by her appearance, "It doesn't matter, this was done by the one that owns my soul". _

_Zohall's tone was hard with righteous anger, "Nobody owns anybody else's soul, nobody". _

"_He owns my soul Zohall Mercer; I am only able to meet with you here when he is distracted". _

_Zohall couldn't even blink before a voice distorted by space and time cried out and echoed the null place that Zohall and the girl stood. "RIP VAN WINKLE! WHERE ARE YOU"!_

_Zohall looked her deeply in the eyes, "Is that your name, is Rip Van Winkle your name"?_

_She spoke quickly, for she knew that her time was short, "No, that is not my name, my real name is-_

"_RIIIIIIIIIP"!! The thunderous distorted voice rang out, cutting her off. Suddenly as though lifted by an invisible hand she began to be pulled away in the direction of the ocean. Zohall cried out and tried to hold onto her, but failed to even slow down the invisible force that stole her from him. _

_They neared the edge of the ocean now, Zohall's grip on Rip's hands slipping, "Whatever happens", he cried out, "I will rescue you, I swear to God"!_

_Suddenly she vanished as if she'd never been. Zohall mercer was left standing alone on a sandy beach when he woke up. _

_Unknown location, unknown time_

_Rip Van Winkle was pulled by the invisible force through time, space and reality. A science fiction buff would have compared her journey to the Millennium Falcon jumping into hyperspace. Suddenly she could see again, she once more saw the stronghold where her owner kept his stolen souls. _

_There filling up her entire field of vision surrounded by mist and woods and darkness and shadow was a haunted castle as tall as a mountain. The towers of the castle stood up like the broken teeth of a predatory animal. The bastions and defenses of the castle were manned by the damned. She was moving faster and faster towards the castle, she screamed as she was about to hit one of the indestructible stone walls. _

_Rip Van Winkle opened her eyes as she heard the sound of dripping water. She took in the familiar sight of one of the castle's dungeons. The very sight of these dingy depressing dungeons all but made her cry. The rags that covered her body had lost some of their integrity in transit so she was practically nude. _

_Choking back her tears, Rip Van Winkle tried to sing from her favorite opera. _

_Mein Sohn_

My Son

_Nur Mut_

Be Brave

_Wer Gott vertraut, baut gut_

Who trusts in God, bears well

_Jest auf_

Now Go

_In Bergen und Rluften_

Through mountains and valleys

_Tobt morgen der freudige Kreig!_

Towards tomorrow's beautiful war

_Already the young woman could feel her spirits pick up. No longer did she notice the damp cold nor care one wit about the bleak walls. All that mattered, the song, sent a fire coursing through her heart that was greater than the pain from her manacles. _

_Das wild in fluren und triften_

The wild animals on the fields and tracks

_Der aar in wolken und luften_

The eagle in the clouds and sky

_She could envision herself now with the eagle, soaring amongst the clouds and sky, leaving behind the subterranean caverns of the castle. She could imagine herself off to beautiful war. She was about to sing the next verse when somebody sung it for her, somebody that she hated and feared with every fiber of her being. _

_**Ist unser, und unser der seig! Unser der seig! Unser der seig!**_

It's ours, our victory! Our victory! Our victory!

_From everywhere and nowhere, the voice of Alucard reverberated like the growl of a hungry alligator. "That stupid opera is all you ever sing; it must have your favorite songs. Stupid piece of German romanticism". Rips' feelings stung at this attack on her favorite opera. Alucard pressed on, "Your voice must be raw from all that singing, why don't you let me sing one of my favorite songs". _

_Rip shuddered; she knew where Alucard's musical tastes ran. Before she knew it she heard Alucard's voice half whispering and half chanting._

_Let the bodies hit the floor. Let the bodies hit the floor. Let the bodies hit the . . . _

_Rip looked around, perhaps trying to see if Alucard had physically materialized in the room. Unfortunately for her Alucard screamed the next part of the song right into her ear. _

"_FLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR"!! Rip screamed and tried to get away from her tormentor. Alucard then leapt in front of her, dressed like a fur clad Wallachian conqueror returned from a hard day's battle. He shook his head in time with a tune that only he could hear. _

_Beaten, why for (why for)_

_Can't take much more_

_Here we go here we go now_

_One, nothing wrong with me_

_Two, nothing wrong with me_

_Three, nothing wrong with me_

_Four, nothing wrong with me_

_As he sung the lyrics, "Nothing wrong with me", he inched closer and closer to Rip. His long claw like hands reached for her but never actually touched her. _

_One, something's got to give_

_Two, something's got to give_

_Three, something's got to give_

_As Alucard sang his favorite song the little illumination from the room's tiny window vanished. The only light coming now came from Alucard's pearly white teeth and burning red eyes. The next part of the song he half growled and half sang._

_Let the bodies hit the floor!_

_Let the bodies hit the floor!_

_Let the bodies hit the floor!_

_Let the bodies hit the flooooooor!!_

_The last word he sung he trailed off into a bestial roar. And Alucard cackled, the sight of Rip Van Winkle struggling with her chains like a cornered rat was just too much for him. Tears flowed freely from her eyes and Alucard fed off of them. Putting his hands on his hips Alucard gloated, "That is my favorite song. It's called "Bodies". It's done by a band called Drowning Pool". He cocked his head, "A fitting name, no"?_

_Rip Van Winkle could not look Alucard in the eye. She begged of him while at the same time trying not to let him see so much of her body, "Please, just leave me alone". _

_Alucard laughed, his heavy iron shod boots thumped on the stone floor, "And I would too Rip dearest but you break so easily. If you could simply ignore me I would let you but, but no, things won't change". He then inquired, "Who were you visiting when you stole away from my fortress of souls"?_

_Rip suddenly became defiant, "I would never-_

"_FAH! What do I care, I don't wish to know where you've been because it doesn't matter". He waved his hand and suddenly her remaining clothes vanished. _

_Rip shrieked like a terrified schoolgirl about to meet a horrible fate, "Please don't rape me"!_

_Alucard acted hurt, "Me rape you, I'm offended that you think I'm capable of such brutality". He sniffed and apparently started to cry. _

_Rip was confused; of all the things he expected of Alucard she never anticipated this. "Are you, alright"? She hardly dared to ask. _

_Suddenly Alucard stopped crying, "Just for that insult I think I will rape you". He pounced on Rip and she screamed out louder than before. Alucard stepped back from Rip in hysterics, "AHAHAH! I had you fooled for a moment, go say it. I fooled you". _

_Suddenly Rip's manacles vanished and she stood truly naked before Alucard. Weakened by despair and Alucard's taunts, she fell just as Alucard picked her up. Before she knew it he thrust a plastic tub into her hands. "What's this"?_

_Alucard told her up strait, "What do you think, it's lube". _

_Rip looked up quite confused, "Lube"?_

_Alucard said back, "Lube"._

_Rip said, "Lube"?_

"_Lube"._

"_Lube"?_

"_Lube"_

"_Lube"?_

"_FUCKING SEXUAL LUBRICANT! DO YOU UNDERSTAND NOW"? _

"_What will I do with it"? Rip sounded so confused and helpless, it turned Alucard on. _

"_Well, from what I know you could use it as lubrication to allow my member access to your entrance". _

_Tears welled up in her eyes again, "But, you said you wouldn't rape me"!_

"_I'm not raping you, for the last time. I'm going to have consensual sex with you, you'll like it". Alucard looked at Rip Van Winkle not like a cruel conqueror but like a child awaiting a slurpee after a hard sports practice. _

"_I'm sorry, but no". Rip was almost hesitant to say it; Alucard looked so childlike in those last thirty seconds. _

_Alucard hung his head, "Oh, well, that's fine. I'll just go home and . . . do things". He made to exit the dungeon, "The dungeon door is open, there are clothes outside the room as well as complimentary donuts and coffee. Knock yourself out kiddo". And he was gone. _

_Real World, Hellsing Manor_

"Here's the soup you asked for Walter", Zohall walked into the men's room with the steamy bowl of cream of mushroom.

Walter got up from the toilet; he hadn't even noticed that Zohall had been asleep for two hours. "Thank you Mr. Mercer, your efforts are greatly appreciated". Walter turned again to the toilet that he had unplugged by hand, "I have only one more ordeal to take car of". And with that, Walter hit the flush lever on the toilet.

As the water started to lower Walter's monocle fell off and landed in the toilet. Not willing to part with his monocle the former Angel of Death lunged for the monocle and rammed his arm down the toilet once more. Toilet water started to rise as Walter's arm plugged up the toilet anew. Walter crowed triumphantly, "Ha, you're not getting away that easily my friend".

Water spilled all over the floor and Walter tried to pull himself up. Walter grunted and huffed. Zohall asked, "What's wrong"?

"Well Mr. Mercer, I do believe that in the process of catching my monocle that I poorly clipped to my shirt, I thrust my arm into the toilet with such force that I'm now stuck". Walter tried to free himself once more, no luck though. "Mr. Mercer, be a sport and fetch Mr. Kennedy would you"?

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Well what do you think? Am I over the top enough? After this I'll probably start working on Hellsing Trek again. If you have any suggestions, requests or criticisms then send them to me right away and I'll do my best. Till next time folks, I love you.


	12. The Short Road Home

The Big Hellsing

Chapter Twelve: The Short road home

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Soylent green is peepholes.

_Forks, Washington, Cullen Residence_

Rosalie and Emmet woke up. It was a strange sensation for them and it was almost frightening. Since becoming vampires, the two had never experienced any sort of unconsciousness. Unlike Nosferatu which slept during the day and slept like the dead, Unstet did not. Unstet spent all of their time fully awake and alert, their bodies having no use for the periodic extinction known to humans as sleep.

Rose and Emmet woke up, fully clothed and sitting down on a couple of folding chairs. Emmet awoke first, his eyes snapped open and he jerked his head around; looking for traces of Alucard. Strangely enough, there was no sign of the No-life King or his blasted ebony coffin. There wasn't even an imprint on the dirt from the heavy funeral box, like the whole thing was a horrible dream. Seeing no sign of Alucard, Emmet moved to wake his mate.

Rose sat in the folding chair, completely unmoving. Seeing her prone form made fear course through Emmet's frozen stone heart. He started to play horrible scenarios through his head, scenarios of Alucard abusing her body. Another thought ran through his head, suppose that Alucard had somehow killed Rose. If Rose was dead, then he would like nothing better than to join her in the land of the dead.

His fears proved untrue as Rosalie sprang to life with a gasp and a shriek. Emmet smiled and gave a strained laugh, he was just so glad to see her alright. "Rose"!

Rose spun in Emmet's direction, "Emmet"! She jumped at him and embraced her husband. Both of them hugged the other as if at any moment Alucard would swoop in and snatch up one of them. Eyes clenched Rosalie's voice was small and for once humble, "I thought he killed you or worse".

Emmet's voice was choked with emotion, "I thought he killed you or worse".

Rose opened her eyes and smiled at Emmet, "I guess we were too tough for him to handle".

"Rose".

"Yes Emmet"?

"You were good, I mean really good. Except for the lightning that was some of the best sex we've had".

Rose laughed this time, "Please Emmet, I wasn't even trying". Rose looked over to where Alucard's coffin had lain, "I was planning after the third orgasm to involve that guy's unconscious body".

Emmet furrowed his brow, "Technically wouldn't that be necrophilia. Or, rape"?

Rosalie waved it off, "No it wouldn't have. He'd have been unconscious, he'd never have known".

Emmet loosened his hold on Rosalie, "Well, I'm just glad that he's gone. That guy was really antisocial".

As they both started to get up Rose smirked, "Antisocial, that's one way of putting it. I haven't seen anybody that crazy since Edward went feral".

"Come on Rose, Edward wasn't that bad".

Rose shot Emmet a look, "Wasn't he? When Edward came back he was pissed off, crazy, lustful and generally acted like a problem kid headed for death row. Doesn't that remind you of tall dark and gruesome"?

Emmet relented, "I guess your right. But still, don't think that around Edward, it'd be mean".

Rose laughed as she and Emmet headed for the stairs, "Sure Emmet, I'll spare poor little Edward's delicate feelings".

As they headed up the stairs Rose went ahead of Emmet. Her plan was to put her ass at level with Emmet's face so to tease him. But as she climbed the stairs with her sexy walk Emmet noticed that something was amiss. When Rose's shirt lifted a little bit he saw something red on her normally porcelain white skin. "Rose life up your shirt quick"!

She mistook his meaning, "Easy big boy, all good things come to those who wait".

"No I mean it Rose, hold up your shirt"! Rosalie was shocked by Emmet's forcefulness but complied with it anyways. With her shirt up, Emmet couldn't suppress his shock, "Oh. My. God".

"What, what's wrong Emmet"? Emmet didn't immediately respond, the thing on Rosalie's skin was just too horrible for words. "What"?

Rose turned her head around and saw that there was a mirror propped up on one of the walls of the root cellar which wasn't there the previous night. There in the mirror's cruel reflection she saw it. The horrible thing that made Emmet stop in his tracks. There on her lower back and standing roughly as tall as a ruler, was a full color tattoo of Alucard.

_Washington state, outskirts of Seattle_

Carlisle and Esme agreed to drive Alucard to the airport. Esme tagged along for the ride because she thought that Carlisle might need protecting from Alucard. She still couldn't shake off the fear that Alucard would violate Carlisle or worse; familiarize him. So the three of them headed on their way to the Seattle airport.

All of the car's windows were opened and the speaker system was being blasted to nearly full volume. When he first arrived in America, Alucard made it his mission to find and purchase the _Batman_ soundtrack. Now that he had it, it was all that he wanted to hear. So with the _Batman _soundtrack playing at full volume and all of the windows opened, Alucard was finding it to be a very enjoyable drive.

Alucard sat in the back seat of the car, half of his body hanging out the window. He grinned madly as his long hair and tongue flapped about in the strong winds. In many ways he was like a big dangerous dog with his head hanging out the window.

Neither Esme nor Carlisle had said anything over the course of the drive. Even though they could hear each other over the pounding winds and the sound of Elfman's score, it just wasn't the ideal place to have a conversation. Esme was among other things, distracted by Alucard and the way he stuck his head out the window, it just wasn't safe. She tried to warn him, "Alucard, you should pull yourself back into the car. That's a good way to lose an eye".

Alucard wasn't interested in what Esme had to say, "AH SHUT UP ESME"!

Esme was very hurt by Alucard's harsh words; after all she only wanted to help.

Carlisle spoke up, "Alucard you shouldn't yell at Esme like that, she's only trying to-

SPLAT!

Carlisle was cut off as Alucard hit his head on something and nearly fell out of the Chevy Nova. Slowly, Alucard pulled half of his head into the car. The other half of his head was splattered all over the side of a passing semi truck. Alucard gave Esme a dirty look as the other half of his head regenerated. "What"?

_Meanwhile, Cullen Residence_

Rosalie screamed at the top of her lungs. The volume of her voice made crystal vibrate and caused birds within many kilometers to take off. "HE DID THIS TO ME! THAT SON OF A BITCH DID THIS TO ME"!

The tattoo of Alucard was one of the best done tattoos that Emmet had ever seen. It perfectly matched Alucard's color pallet, from his red coat to his black hair it all matched the real life version. The tattoo showed Alucard with his hands spread wide and a warm and friendly smile on his face. He looked like a smooth talking child with a hand caught in the cookie jar.

Emmet being the kind soul that he was tried to calm down his wife, "Just take it easy Rose, don't panic".

Rose only did the opposite, "I'VE EVERY FUCKING RIGHT TO FREAK OUT RIGHT NOW MISTER! THAT CUNT HAS RUINED MY BEAUTY"!

"Come on Rose, it's not that bad. It actually looks kind of good on you".

Rose spun around to face Emmet, "Oh fuck if you like his looks so much why don't you marry him"!

Emmet was offended by Rosalie's hurtful statements, "Don't get offended Rose, I'm only trying to help".

Rosalie was just about to throw another insult Emmet's way when she noticed something. The way Emmet held up his large muscular arms caused his short sleeves to rise a little bit. As the sleeves rose on Emmet's shirt Rosalie saw something red on Emmet's skin. "What is that"? She pointed at his arm.

Emmet was confused, "What"? And then he saw it, "OH GOD"!

_Meanwhile, Hellsing Headquarters_

Zohall Mercer was a little bit uncertain about Walter's plan, "Are you totally sure about this"?

Walter had been stuck in the toilet for the better part of nine hours now and all traces of politeness were fast fading, "OF COURSE I'M BLOODY FUCKING SURE"!

Leon rose to his friend's aid, "The Kid had a point, if we crack open the toilet with a sledge hammer we might break your arm".

Walter ground his teeth, "Leon, I've been stuck in this fucking toilet for nine fucking hours. We've tried every other fucking way to get me out of this fucking toilet. SO CAN YOU SEE WHY I'M SO FUCKING EAGER TO GET OUT OF HERE"!

Zohall was still unsure about the plan. Holding the fifteen pound sledge hammer close to his chest he tried to dissuade Walter, "IN THE NAME OF THE QUEEN, BASH OPEN THIS FUCKING TOILET"!

With a reluctant "Okay", Zohall raised the sledge hammer like a golf club and swung with all of his might. That's where things were a bit awry. When Zohall hit the toilet he struck it at a poor angle. The fifteen pound hammer head skidded off the toilet's surface and busted Walter right between the eyes.

"EEEEK"! Zohall gave a high girly squeak as he dropped the sledge hammer on the floor.

Leon reacted in a similar if more manly way, "OH FUCK! YOU KILLED WALTER"!

Zohall held up his hands defensively, "Come on Leon, it was an accident. I didn't mean to kill Walter".

Leon was in hysterics, he'd seen how Integra reacted when she found out that Zohall totaled a bunch of suits of armor. He could only imagine how things would go down when she discovered that they killed her most prized servant. It was definitely going to be the firing squad for him and Zohall. "HOW DO YOU ACCIDENTLY KILL SOMEBODY WITH A SLEDGE HAMMER"!

Walter piped up, "Actually I'm not dead".

This time it was Leon's turn to scream like a girl, "EEEEK! I mean, holy shit you're alive"! The survivor of Raccoon City couldn't hide his surprise.

Walter was looking up at Leon with his kindly expression back, "Of course I'm alive, why wouldn't I be"?

"I hit you in the head with a fifteen pound sledge hammer", Zohall brushed off the shock.

"It's quite alright Mr. Mercer, a little sledge hammer isn't going to do me much damage".

Leon looked at Walter with wide eyes, "How are you still alive".

Walter was quite happy to answer Leon's query, "Well Mr. Kennedy, when you have hunted vampires for as long as I have you develop a tolerance for abuse. Now could one of you pick up that hammer and kindly smash open this toilet"?

_Meanwhile, Cullen Residence_

"OH GOD"! Emmet cried out as loud as Rose had when he saw the Alucard tattoo on his forearm. The tattoo was as detailed as the one on Rosalie's back, albeit in a different pose. This one was sitting cross legged as it levitated off the ground, evidenced by the fact that his jacket was hanging past where ground should have been.

Rose tried to calm Emmet down, "Take it easy Emmet we'll just head to the nearest tattoo parlor and-

"AND WHAT? THAT FREAKSHOW PROBABLY THOUGHT OF THAT AND NOW WE WON'T BE ABLE TO GET RID OF THESE TATOOS"!

"EMMET! If you don't calm down right now I will make you regret your outburst". She spoke with the authority of a drill Sergeant.

Emmet hung his head, "I'll be good".

Rose continued, "Okay, we'll start with soap and water. If that doesn't work we'll try to burn them off. If that doesn't work I know the address of this occult shop in Port Angeles".

As Rose and Emmet continued on in this way, upstairs was calm and peaceful. Above the fireplace, right next to the portrait of the three Volturi leaders stood the painting of Dracula. The Dracula painting stood there, seemingly sucking up all the light in the room. It was the same as when Carlisle left the home with Alucard and Esme; or was it? To a careful observer it would seem that Dracula's smile was a little wider and a little more gleeful.

At the Seattle airport Alucard looked out the window, seemingly spellbound by the New moon. Invisible to human eyes, the New Moon stood out to Alucard like a beacon. He said to himself, "Lovely night".

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And that wraps up this edition folks. I hope that it was up to standards for all of my reviewers. I am now declaring a national holiday on Fanfiction because _Variant and the Vampire: Plague _has been updated. And as for Walter, he's pretty tough. In the Dawn he got punched in the face by Captain and got back up.

Sincerely: The Master of the Boot


	13. Return to Volturi

The Big Hellsing

Chapter Thirteen: Return to Volturi

Disclaimer: Has anybody actually read Twilight? I own nothing.

There were many chambers in the castle at Volterra. The place was a hive of underground rooms and tunnels that spanned almost the entirety of the city. However Albert Wesker preferred to keep to the science lab. It had all of his tools and the various members of the Volturi knew perfectly well that the brightly lit lab crammed with deadly things was Albert Wesker's territory.

Originally Albert Wesker had been hired on as a typist. He used to be a replacement for Gianna, a foolish woman who held onto a foolish hope of becoming a vampire. The circumstances of her death held little interest for Wesker, he passingly remembered that she had been devoured by Aro and his first job was to dispose of the body.

Now however Wesker was a power to be reckoned with in the Volturi. He started out as a mere typist and now could be considered something close to a Major Domo. His ascent within the ranks had angered a great deal of the vampires under the control of Aro, Caius and Marcus. A few of them actually went to Wesker's face and threatened his life. In the face of these threats Wesker simply said, "I'm sorry you feel that way, why don't you come down to the lab and I'll show you what I can do".

Currently Wesker had more important things to worry about than the empty threats of idiots. His job mostly entailed creating weapons for Lord Caius and making impressive gadgets for Lord Aro. As he inputted experimental data into one of five super computers his ears warned him of an intruder in the laboratory.

Caius approached the former employee of Umbrella with steps that were too soft to be heard by the human ear. Then again, Albert Wesker was no longer fully human. Caius's greeting to Wesker was brief and blunt, "Status report"?

Wesker did not look up from his keyboard, "Are you referring to my new strain of

T-Virus or to my work with Gianna"?

"Both Wesker, tell me what have you done"?

Through his sunglasses Wesker glanced quickly at Caius, "So far viral cultures one through four have failed to manifest signs of accepting the transplanted genes while viral culture five has begun to show some promise. This afternoon I will inspect the genetic structure of this new virus and then test it on a human subject as soon as possible". Wesker halted his typing for a moment to bring up a display on the computer screen, "As for Gianna, I bear very good news".

Caius showed no outward sign that he was pleased with Wesker's progress, "Good news you say"?

"Indeed", there was no change in Wesker's arrogant slightly nasal tone, "It turns out that I was correct to keep her corpse refrigerated. According to scans on the electron microscope she has the exact karyotype necessary to become a Tyrant instead of a zombie".

"How soon will we be able to use her"?

Wesker returned to his typing, "That depends on what you decide, Lord Caius. I can make her into a viable Tyrant within thirty days. I can also make her into a much more powerful tyrant in one year".

Caius weighted the pros and cons for a moment, "Give her a year in the oven, I don't want anything that I use to be second rate".

Wesker nodded, "Of course".

The silence might have been considered to be awkward, but neither man had any desire to continue the conversation further. So with nothing immediately pressing on his schedule, Caius decided to explore the lab a little bit. He and his brothers had spent a massive sum of money to purchase all of this scientific equipment. The middle Volturi brother berated himself for not paying closer attention to what he was buying. A thousand years ago he didn't so much as purchase a button without seeing to its quality himself.

The three thousand year old vampire walked between aisle after aisle of equipment that looked like it belonged in a cyberpunk novel. He saw a whole galaxy of sealed containers that held all of the viruses produced by the Umbrella Corporation, from the G-Virus to the original progenitor virus. Neighboring that was a small jungle of tubes that were shielded from bright light and circulated a red fluid: Nosferatu blood.

Caius sneered a little bit as he was reminded of those wretched creatures. In many ways Nosferatu were like herpes. You could kill up to ninety eight percent of their numbers but even if a single Nosferatu remained then the whole species would restart itself. When conditions were unfavorable for them, if food wasn't plentiful enough or there were too many threats against them, virtually the entire species would bury themselves and lay in a death like sleep until conditions became favorable again. At times in the past there had been whole epochs when the Volturi had believed Nosferatu to be extinct. And like herpes, the Nosferatu would wake themselves again when conditions were favorable to restart their reign of terror.

In his internal remembrance of that accursed breed of vampire, Caius nearly missed the last item in this aisle of the lab. He was just about to leave the lab when he heard a funny bubbling noise. Turning around, the black haired vampire let curiosity get the better of him. There, wedged in between much more impressive and important science projects was the source of the bubbling noise.

It wasn't anything impressive or spectacular about it. It was just a transparent container with a pump attacked that seemed to be circulating and churning some kind of black fluid. Caius bent down for a closer look. The fluid inside of the container had the same consistency as heated tar but was far blacker. It seemed to suck the light from the surrounding environment. And if Caius didn't know any better, he would have sworn that it was alive.

Something else caught his eye, this time it was the container itself. Caius noticed that the container was completely transparent. That wouldn't have been out of the ordinary for a human but for an Unstet like himself it was quite abnormal. Being what he was Caius was endowed with eyesight that humans could only dream about. He could see every individual speck of dust in the air and could spot imperfections and flaws in even the finest most expensive glass. The substance of this container had no such imperfections.

Caius pressed his face closer until his nose almost touched the wall of the vessel. He sniffed, but detected nothing. Experimentally he tapped a fingernail on the wall of the container, it didn't sound like glass.

"Please don't do that Lord Caius".

Caius nearly jumped out of his skin. He'd been so engrossed in inspecting the strange black goo in the uncanny container that he'd failed to hear Wesker's heartbeat or footsteps.

Wesker continued in the same tone that he always addressed Caius, "It's just that I wouldn't want to risk that breaking. Besides, Aro is in here all the time tapping my things and touching them. I've just learned to always be there in case something might break".

Caius gave Wesker a cold stare, "Don't ever try to compare me to Aro. Is that clear"?

For once Wesker seemed a little less arrogant, "Perfectly, Lord Caius".

As Caius was exiting the science lab through the hole that was still left behind from the incident with the cyborg horse, his cell phone went off. Caius sighed; the only person who ever called him on the cell phone was Marcus. "Yes Marcus".

"What channel is the discover channel"? The eldest Volturi brother asked.

"It's on channel thirty five".

So Marcus asked, "What's on the discovery channel"?

Marcus groaned, "I don't know, I never watch it".

"Does it have that show with the gargoyles"?

"I'm fairly certain that it doesn't".

"What channel is the discovery channel"?

"Honestly Marcus I just told you that"

"What's the name of that show where they're on a space ship. The one where they're trekking through the stars"?

"I don't know that either".

"What channel is the discovery channel"?

Caius couldn't believe it, either Marcus had lost more marbles than he'd first thought or he was being played with, "I'm going to hang up now Marcus".

"Where is Aro"?

"He's in Alaska breaking in a new recruit".

"What channel is the discovery channel"?

_Denali, Alaska_

Aro Volturi sat in the driver's seat of a rented pickup truck. Many vampires liked fast cars but Aro was a little bit different. He had a thing for trucks, large powerful trucks. He had a collection of them back home.

He could have rented a nicer truck or even brought one of his won from home but Caius had cautioned him to be stealthy, so he was being stealthy. Currently they were just outside of the residence of the Denali coven. They were the only coven of so called "vegetarian" vampires other than the Cullens and the damn hippies that lived on Madagascar.

Aro wasn't alone in the truck; he had a companion with him. The companion in question was none other than the new recruit that Caius had been talking about to Marcus earlier. The name of the recruit was Furio Giunta.

Aro had been adjusting the radio station for the last three hours, trying to find an Italian radio station. During the whole time, Furio had simply sat there and waited patiently for his future boss to give him an order. Aro liked Furio; the man had absolutely no inhibitions.

During his time as a human, Furio Giunta gained a reputation as one of the toughest Mafia toughs ever to come out of Italy. Through the course of his career, Furio had demonstrated a merciless wrath which had been firmly embedded by a sincere loyalty to his boss, whoever that might be. He'd turned Yakuza into sushi, beat up children without a second thought and had completely outperformed Russian Mafia former KGB members in the field of intimidation and torture.

Furio had been bitten three years ago and was only recently discovered by the Volturi's "talent agency". Naturally the Volturi have Furio several tests, both of his loyalty and of his toughness. Unlike most members of the Volturi, he lacked a supernatural power. Instead his sense of cruelty and his toughness had come with him through the transformation intact.

This would be his final test, he would be forced to go in and single handedly beat up the entire Denali clan. Aro looked up from the radio and looked Furio in the eye, taking in his features. Furio had turned out rather atypical for an Unstet. Most of them emerged from the transformation with godlike beauty, but not Furio. Rather than make him beautiful, the transformation into a vampire had made him look fierce and cruel. In the women, the first response would not be lust, instead it would be fear. And fear him they should.

Aro said to Furio, "My friend, there are exactly five vampires in that building". Furio looked out the window and noticed what Aro was pointing at.

Aro explained to Furio, "This is the home that they spend time in when they want to keep up the human façade. I want you to go in and . . . rough them up".

Furio responded in the affirmative, "Si signore".

As Furio began to climb out of the truck, Aro stopped him. Aro had a grin on his face a mile wide and a baseball bat in his hand, "Tools of the trade". Furio accepted the aluminum bat without a word.

Furio did what he did without ceremony. First thing, he walked up to the door and kicked it in. Then he started to use the bat to smash everything that was in sight. It wasn't long before the first of the Denali clan showed up on the scene.

Irina paused when she found a strange vampire with a long black ponytail tearing up the front of the house. Irina's moment of indecision worked well in Furio's favor. Without pausing he slammed Irina across the head with the aluminum bat. Were she human, her skull would have been obliterated. As it were however she was only stunned.

Furio seized the moment; he took the broken end of his baseball bat and drove the torn and jagged aluminum into Irina's eye. As Furio twisted the handle Irina let out a scream of pain. Her cry was cut off as Furio shot forward like a panther and snapped her neck. As she dropped to the floor the rest of the Denali clan sprinted into the room prepared for battle. Furio had been looking forward to this moment.

Furio sprung like a jungle cat and struck at Eleazar. The vampire from Naples pounced, he flew through the air and both his feet struck Eleazar in the face with an audible crunch. He then leapt off of Eleazar's broken face onto Tanya and Carmen.

Furio delivered Tanya a brutal punch on the nose, driving a piece of bone into her brain. Instantly he spun around and landed a devastating kick to Carmen's knee, shattering the knee cap and almost kicking her lower leg right off. Before Furio could thrown down some more attacks he was suddenly grabbed from behind by Eleazar and forced across the room.

Before he knew it, Eleazar had forced Furio's face into the fireplace, which crackled merrily. Tongues of flame licked Furio's face as he thrashed like a wild animal. Furio's thrashing limbs shattered the concrete around the fireplace and spread chunks of burning wood all over the fine Persian rugs.

Furio, working with years of being in tough situations, tried a different approach. Instead of thrashing like an animal he suddenly relaxed. Eleazar, with his face only half healed was unprepared for the sudden cessation of motion from the former Mafia enforcer.

Before he knew it, Furio's arms reached backwards over his head and drove his thumbs into Eleazar's eyes. Furio's thumbs ruptured his opponent's eyeballs and penetrated the back of the eye socket.

Not wasting a minute, Furio launched himself into an arc which took him right behind Eleazar. The Italian enforcer vampire was a terrifying sight to behold. One half of his face was engulfed in flame, but he betrayed no signs of pain. The side of his face that wasn't on fire held the same cruel expression it always had as though it was permanent.

With all his might, Furio pulled his thumbs out of his opponent's eye sockets and latched two fingers from each hand onto the tops of Eleazar's eye sockets.

Suddenly Furio cried out in pain. From behind him, Carmen was biting down on his neck and chewing, trying to find and sever his spinal cord. His pain doubled when all of the sudden Kate, who had escaped the initial assault, grabbed his wrist and upper arm in an attempt to dislocate Furio's elbow.

Letting go of Eleazar, Furio reached into his jacket and whipped out a forty five caliber pistol loaded with hollow pointed bullets.

Kate had barely registered that there was a gun barrel in her mouth before it went off twice, throwing her back.

Dropping the pistol to the ground, Furio used his uninjured arm to grab Carmen by the hair. With the flames mostly subsided from his face, Furio's features became contorted with searing agony as he ripped Carmen off, along with half of his neck muscles.

Furio's cruel expression changed into something even more terrifying, registering a fury that would make the devil himself quake in his boots. Silent as a mime, Furio threw Carmen to the ground. Holding her neck between his ankles, Furio tore out a thick lump of Carmen's long luxurious hair. As she screamed Furio was grabbed from behind by Eleazar.

Furio and Eleazar hit the ground, causing myriad cracks to appear in the gorgeous mahogany floor. Out of the corner of his eye Furio saw Tanya running at him, looking like a mother bear with threatened cubs. Not far away from him lay the gun.

Furio drove his elbow into Eleazar's mostly healed nose. Throwing himself forward with Eleazar still clinging to him like a leech, Furio snatched up the gun and put a forty five caliber hollow pointed slug into Tanya's eye.

For the second time Furio dropped the gun, his elbow still not healed. He kicked Eleazar off him like a piece of garbage. Furio leapt onto Eleazar's shoulders, hooking two fingers back into Eleazar's messy sockets.

With all of his might, Furio yanked the top of Eleazar's head right off. The Denali clan member's brain glistened in the house as it rapidly burned to the ground. Furio tore out Eleazar's brain and hurled it against the nearest wall. The shimmering grey mass bounced once before it hit the ground.

Carmen, with her appearance ruined by her missing hair cried out, "ELEAZAR"!

Thoughtless of the danger, she ran towards her downed husband. Furio took advantage of her mistake. He kicked her right in the face, sending her flying across the room. As she landed catlike in between two burning pieces of furniture Furio spoke to her in a thick Italian accent, "Is okay, is okay". His expression didn't change as his fist powered across Carmen's jaw, ripping the lower half off.

Carmen's tongue lolled lifelessly on her collar bone. She never even felt it when Furio stuck the gun under where her lower jaw used to be and emptied the clip into her brain.

The only ones left standing were Furio and Tanya. Tanya had recovered from her gunshot much faster than the others. The one bullet fired at her hadn't done very much damage to her brain since no subsequent bullets had been released into the path the first one had cleared. The others had not been so lucky. The second and third bullets raced through the cleared paths in their heads and bounced around the insides of their skulls, turning their brains into Swiss cheese.

From her one eye Tanya watched the cruel Neapolitan vampire walk towards her. He delivered to Tanya a devastating blow to the base of the neck that nearly severed her head off. By now the house was a blazing inferno. Eleazar's brainless body was slowly but surely crawling towards the spot where his brain was. Kate, Irina and Carmen started to amble away from the flames. With their brains destroyed their movements were clumsy and zombie like.

"Maniac", she croaked at Furio.

He shot right back, "Eh, _Meretrice_"! This was the Italian word for whore. Immediately he started to pummel at Tanya, making her his personal punching bag. He worked like a surgeon with his blows, first he took off an arm, then a leg and very soon he had pulverized her limbs off as the house went up in flames around them.

The glow cast by the flames mimmicked those in hell. Each limb that he took from Tanya he tossed into the fire. Before he left, he spat in Tanya's face. Furio walked out with not a care in the world, he could care less if the Denali Clan survived the fire.

He found Aro and the truck right outside of the house, ready to make a quick getaway. Aro was smiling; he'd been smiling since he first heard the screams. He noticed Furio's damaged neck, dislocated elbow and scorched face. For a guy facing down vampires at least a hundred years old, he'd done pretty well.

Aro pulled out a small attaché case next him, opening it up he revealed to Furio a long black cloak that was his size. Aro held out his hand. Furio had been briefed on his, when he touched Aro; he would instantly see all of the thoughts that he'd you'd ever had.

Aro said to Furio in a near exact approximation of a Neapolitan accent, "Welcome to the club Furio Giunta".

Furio's hardened exterior broke to reveal a heartfelt smile, he was ever so glad to have pleased his new master.

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Don't you just love a good fight scene? In case you're wondering, Furio is not an OC. I hope I did him justice. That's it for now, tune in next time. Remember, I'm open to request. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to contact me. Big thanks to Lion in the Land for editing the fight for me.


	14. Enter Joham

The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair

Chapter 14: Enter Joham

Declaimers: I own nothing. Hellsing, Twilight and all other crossovers do not belong to me.

_Newfoundland, Canada, present day_

Dok and Joham stood staring at each other while on the far wall, a clock that resembled Felix the cat counted down the seconds.

If you were to lay eyes on them, they would have been quite a pair. One blond German dressed like Victor Frankenstein's same sex prison bride. The other a white haired Dutchman who looked like a Colonel Sanders impersonator.

Despite their glaring differences, the two evil geniuses also had their share of similarities. Neither man had changed in the fifty odd years since their last meeting. Even their styles of clothing were unchanged. Also, the pair of them were ruthless men of science who had learned a long time ago to completely disregard the suffering of others.

Joham looked around at what served the purpose of sheltering Dok and his only companion Schrodinger. It was a little cabin that overlooked the sea, very quaint. Joham was willing to bet his bottom dollar that Dok had not actually purchased this place. In fact, Joham was willing to bet that Dok had murdered the real owners of this cabin and then moved in like it was home. The tip off was the skeletal hand sticking out of the flower bed that Joham had seen while entering the front door.

Joham chose his words carefully, he and Dok had not exactly parted on speaking terms, "Your . . . _huis_, is very nice. What is the word, ah, rustic".

Dok continued to glare at Joham from behind his odd surgeon's glasses.

Joham arched his eyebrows a little, "_Gott in himmell_", he thought to himself, "_This will be harder than I thought_". The nine hundred year old Dutch vampire tried once more to coax a reaction out of Dok, "So, Avondale, what _nieuws_ do you bear"?

Dok's voice was quiet but possessed an intensity that shocked Joham. "I vould rather that you did not refer to me by that name. You will refer to me as Doktor, or Dok if you prefer."

Joham nodded in acknowledgement, "As you wish, _mijn vriend_".

Dok spoke again, calmly but with a commanding edge that allowed now dissent, "You are not _mein freund_."

Joham held up his hands, "Calm yourself Av-Herr Doktor. We can be allies even if we cannot be vriends."

Dok was about to respond to Joham when all of the sudden Schrodinger appeared right next to white haired Dutchman and shouted in his ear, "GUTEN TAG HER DEVENPECK"!

Joham practically jumped out of his skin, shooting out of his chair like he was jet propelled. Joham scowled at Schrodinger as if he wanted to wring his neck, "I've told you before. Never approach me without my permission, never!"

Schrodinger gave a mischievous grin and held up a paper tray full of coffee cups and a box of muffins, all labeled "_Tim Horton's_." "Sorry Herr Joham, but I am excited to be meeting vith you again. Ve have not sat face to face in over two days."

Joham growled, "Yes, two days." He looked to Dok as though expecting the ex-Nazi to help, "Two days ago this little hellion interrupted me while I was in the middle ov important business."

Dok gave Schrodinger an inquisitive look, "Explain yourself Varrant Officer Schrodinger".

Schrodinger explained himself to his superior officer, "I vas contacting Herr Devenpeck like you ordered. Vhen I found him, he vas making a new half vampire vith a nice lady. He growled a lot, and scratched too."

Joham was starting to lose is scientist's composure; he was beginning to act less like a Dutchman and more like a vampire. His burgundy eyes shone with anger and his gritted his razor sharp teeth. As it was he was this close to karate chopping Schrodinger's head off.

Dok saw Joham's anger and gestured towards the now vacant chair. "Have a seat Joham."

But Joham refused, "No, I will not remain here as long as this thing is around."

Dok chuckled, "Humor me Joham, and put aside your fear of cats for one day."

Joham huffed indignantly, "I am not avraid of cats! I just hate them."

Schrodinger, oblivious to all of this, just smiled and placed the coffee and muffins on the kitchen table. Dok reached across the table and grabbed himself a cup of java. He was about to put the cup to his lips when he seemed to remember something and put the steaming hot cup down. Avondale reached into one of the kitchen drawers behind him and pulled out an injection gun loaded with a clear blue fluid.

Joham watched with carefully disguised curiosity as he watched Dok roll back a sleeve and inject himself with the clear blue concoction. He ventured a question, "May I ask, what is that?"

Dok flexed his arm and rolled down his sleeve, "It allows me to eat like a human."

Joham seated himself and permitted a knowing smile to show, "I think that I understand. Avter we parted ways I didn't think that you would be able to ever eat again." He asked in a sly voice, "Do you regret what I have made you into?"

"I think that the question you should be asking is, do I regret how you have corrupted me."

Joham smiled, "It saddens me to have you think that-get that muffin out of my face." Joham flatly refused the muffin that Schrodinger had shoved in his face.

Schrodinger didn't seem to care, "Oh vell, more muffins for me". As the Cat boy started to turn around while eating his muffin, he accidently bumped into the table. The force of one Cat boy walking into the table caused one of the cups of coffee to fall right into Joham's lap.

Joham hissed at the scalding coffee on his perfect white pants. The heat of the liquid didn't bother him, he was Unstet, he could douse himself with boiling oil for seven hours and still not feel a bit of pain nor receive a bit of damage from it. What really bothered him was that his pants were stained.

Immediately Dok smacked Schrodinger on the head and began to bark orders at him in a tone of voice once used by the Fhuror. Schrodinger, as per Dok's orders, ran towards the sink to grab a sponge and some soap.

Dok started to apologize to the high strung vampire, "I'm sorry Joham, but you of all people vould know that he's hopeless."

Joham grunted, "Indeed I would know. Why have you not had that creature destroyed and replaced with something more competent?"

"He is the self actualizing Schrodinger's cat. If we kill him he is both alive and dead. Because he is alive he can re-actualize again and become wholly alive. And despite his occasional failure he has served me well."

Schrodinger purred at Dok's praise and started to dab at Joham's pants with a soapy sponge. Under normal circumstances Joham would never let Schrodinger near him, let alone touch him. But he would rather have Schrodinger clean his pants than Dok.

Joham tried to not notice how close Schrodinger was bringing that sponge towards his crotch, "Now, I think that we have delayed enough. Would you please tell me what you have in mind?"

"It's very simple really; I intend to pick up where the Major left off."

For a moment, Joham was silent. The only sound in the room was Schrodinger as he finished applying the soapy sponge and went to fetch some moist paper towels to rinse Joham's pants. "Simple, such things rarely are."

"By simple, I meant simple in theory Joham. I also meant that it would be completely possible und even beneficial."

"Do you realize what you intend to do?"

Dok nodded, "Yes, I am simply tearing down the status quo violently and suddenly."

Joham paused as he allowed Schrodinger to rinse the soap out of his pants, "Then you also understand that those who are in command will not take kindly to this sort of thing. Their counter-action will be almost as violent as your action."

Dok smiled, "I vould be disappointed if things did not get violent."

Joham leaned forward, "Why do you insist on carrying on the Major's foolish and suicidal plan. Life does not favor those who dominate on the battle field, it favor those who dominate in the civilian life."

"It ist not my intention to dominate, but to learn und to observe."

Joham was about to respond when he noticed something. His pants were now relatively clean and dry, but for some reason Schrodinger was still dabbing at his crotch with a handful of paper towel. "Stop it", he ordered Schrodinger.

Schrodinger hung his head with disappointment but otherwise did as Joham bid. He continued, "What could you possibly learn from the destruction of London?"

Dok said one word, a name, but a name of such significance, "Alucard."

Joham's eyes widened and if he were human his pulse would have quickened. "What . . . what about Alucard."

Dok explained his purpose, "What I intend to do is to place Alucard in a position where I can see him at his full strength."

Joham swallowed but he has no spit in his mouth to swallow. He had seen Alucard once, many years ago.

_South America, Bolivia, 1928_

_Joham stood and watched the battle from a distance. He was most fascinated by the behavior of these southern Unstet covens. At some point or anther, the southern vampires had rejected the relatively peaceful nomadic existence typical to their kind in order to adopt a more warlike way of life similar to that pursued by the Nosferatu. _

_The Covens in the south battle for land and resources. The only resource that they valued was the red life giving fluid that coursed through the veins and arteries of humans. For some years, the Unstet had fought each other. The nature of the conflict hardly changed when the Nosferatu decided to join the fray. _

_For years more, the conflict continued in a rather predictable fashion. Territory would change hands, humans would be drained dry and the Nosferatu would kill purely for the sake of killing. _

_But one day, all of it had changed. A vampire whose name escaped Joham originated the idea of an army of newborns. When an Unstet was first changed from a human, its first year would be spent in an animalistic rage. Newborn Unstet were wild and nearly uncontrollable. Because their bodies were supersaturated with blood left over from their human physiology, they possessed terrible and deadly strength, strength enough even to match a master Nosferatu. _

_With his army of newborns behind him, the relatively young vampire had routed his enemies, cutting a swath through them like the scythe cuts through wheat. But that was not the end. _

_Other vampires followed in his footsteps, capturing large numbers of humans and turning them. At the end of the first year, the newborns were all destroyed, for their strength had run its course. _

_The nature of this period of nearly unending warfare meant that local human populations in Mexico, the Southern United States and Latin America were all decimated. Human historians blamed it on disease. _

_Eventually it reached the point where the Volturi intervened, slaughtering most of the warring clans and leaving the survivors with a psychological scar or two. _

_The Volturi had not stopped the wars; they merely forced them to be conducted in a more discrete manner. Despite their newfound discretion, the southern covens were no less brutal than before. _

_Joham was here because he had caught word that there was a vampire, an Unstet who had a power that was capable of calming down the wild and volatile newborns. It was said that this vampire was able to take the ferocious newborns and whip them into a cohesive fighting unit. Well, a sight like that was not something that Joham would miss. _

_Rumor had it that this vampire, Jasper was his name, was travelling with a war leader named Maria. He had found Maria and had proceeded to watch her and her army through several battles. Maria's army was large but lacked the cohesion that rumor had stated that they had. _

_This was turning into a big waste of time. Joham knew that there were three possibilities, first that this Jasper did not exist, second that Jasper had left the group and third that Jasper had been killed. _

_Joham was jolted out of his thoughts as one of his beautiful daughters spoke to him, "We're so sorry papa that you did not find what you were looking for."_

_Joham shrugged, "It is no fault of yours __**dotchter**__." He once more looked into the battle's heart, Maria's forces had nearly triumphed, not that he really cared. He was about to start in the direction of home when something caught his eye. _

_There standing before the army of newborns was a figure clad entirely in black. As Joham looked closer he saw that it was actually a very old man with long white hair, bushy moustache, full red lips and eyes that glowed like fire. He was Nosferatu; there could be no doubt of it. _

_The last of Maria's enemies had fallen and was burning in a pile with the rest of his comrades. She turned around and saw this intruder, this tall and spindly figure. _

_Nosferatu, they all thought that they were immortal. They all did until the stakes and blessed silver daggers pierced their black hearts. This one would be no different than the last dozen that Maria had staked. "And who might you be old man?"_

_The stranger's voice was deep and rich, the voice of one whose voice had aged well and grown stronger. "My name is Alucard. I will be guide to the afterlife."_

_Maria and her commanders were slightly shocked by his brashness. Maria pouted her lips and thrust her exquisite breasts forward. "You look so weary Alucard; allow me to put you to sleep."_

_Alucard chuckled; his bushy moustache moved as if it had a life of its own, "I outgrew whores like you when I was a paltry hundred years old. Ugly personalities tend to spoil any kind of physical beauty." _

_Maria stopped thrusting her chest forward and regarded Alucard with a look as mean and deadly as any modern weapon. "Kill him!" She screamed to her troops. _

_As if a floodgate had been opened, the newborns launched themselves at Alucard. Alucard didn't move, he only smiled a devil's grin as the newborns tore him to pieces as effectively as a butcher's blades chopping meat for stew. _

_Joham knew what would happen next, either the Nosferatu would die because he was too young or he would reassemble himself to assert his status as a master. _

_As the newborns swarmed, a sudden blast threw them all away from the remains of the Nosferatu. Maria was given a clear view was what was left. Alucard had been reduced to a smear of blood, fat and flesh with some scraps of clothing thrown in for variety. _

_Slowly, but then faster, the mess that was Alucard started to pull itself together. Powdered bones became whole again. Clothing repaired itself with the same unreal quality as did his flesh. Soon, Alucard stood before them, good as new. _

_Alucard gave them a sly and demeaning look "Is that all you had to offer. I think you're succeeding in putting me to sleep." _

_No sooner had the words left Alucard's mouth did something shiny blessed pierce into his flesh. Alucard let out a wild cry that resembled the warble of a predatory bird. A shiny dagger, coated in blessed silver stuck into his flesh. Around the blade, Alucard's flesh crumbled and melted. _

_Maria taunted him, "Those blades were forged by Catholic priest from Rome who was visiting Mexico City. In return for these, we agreed to spare the lives of the local convent."_

_Alucard tried to pull out the blade, but it burned his hands even through his gloves. His breathing was raspy and short, "Let me, rrrh, guess, those nuns are now in heaven?"_

_Maria smiled, "Yes they are, a fire tragically destroyed the convent, killing all inside, including the priest." _

_Alucard laughed, "Good, I don't like priests."_

_Maria laughed and motioned for her commanders to have some fun. Another blessed dagger struck Alucard in the stomach. One more struck him in the shoulder. They were all avoiding Alucard's heart and head; they found his inhuman warbles of pain so amusing. _

_One blade struck Alucard's knee and he fell down on his bottom. Maria said, "Enough, the fun is over." She tossed two daggers at Alucard, striking his head and heart. Alucard dropped, seemingly dead. _

_Maria snapped at her underlings, "We've wasted enough time as it is. Get to work corralling the newborns before they start killing each other." _

_BOOOOOOOSH!!!!!!!! Everybody in a ten kilometer radius, including Joham jumped at the sound. A wall of blue flame had sprung up from the ground, totally encircling Maria and her army. The roar of the flames was joined the rancorous laughter, the most horrible, cruel and knowing laughter that a person could ever hear in their life. _

_Alucard sat up, the daggers in his flesh were melting him like fire melts butter, but he didn't seem to care. His laughter grew louder, more hysterical and less grounded in reality. Even the newborns were afraid of the horrible sound. _

_A few of the newborns tried to jump over the fire, but the blue tongues reached up, becoming hand of fire that snatched the newborns no matter now much high they leapt. The blue flames clung to the newborns as tightly as their own skins. No amount of rolling around could stop the terrible blue flame. _

_Alucard stood up, looking like a badly burned pudding. His laughter grew even more hideous. Even though he was at a distance, Joham wished that he did not have to hear that horrible sound. _

_Alucard lifted off the air where he levitated for a moment like a fakir. Then suddenly he began to spin like a potter's wheel. The blessed blades flew in all direction, some into the blue fire and some into the earth. _

_Alucard's laugh tapered off into s long snake like hiss as he set his feet back on the ground again, "Did I fail to mention, that I WELCOME eternal pain?" He started to move towards the now terrified Maria like a snake nearing a mouse, "But in a few moments, you and your companions will know all about eternal pain."_

_Joham watched in rapt fascination as the wall of blue fire started to close, burning more and more vampires as they tried to escape. It was all in vane, even water failed to put out this devils' fire. _

_In the clearing, Maria's entire world was falling apart. Five minutes ago she had been on top of the world, now she was the dinner special on the devil's menu. Alucard edged closer, moving like oil, smooth and slippery. Maria was frozen in panic, what could she do to this monster when even blessed weapons had failed to do more to him than irritate him. _

_Alucard was nearly upon her, long tongue licking his chops. She had heard stories, about Nosferatu who had eaten the brains of Unstet and in doing so had possessed their souls. What could she do? _

_Alucard reached for her . . . and received a strong punch in the face. _

_She could go out with a bang. _

_Alucard growled, spitting out a tooth. Maria wasted no time, she quickly landed Alucard a hard punch in the gut. The Nosferatu doubled over just in time for Maria to drive her knee into his face. _

_Maria flew at Alucard, not giving him an inch to breath, showing no mercy. Alucard, caught off guard, was getting pummeled like a well used punching bag. _

_Maria threw a left hook, sending Alucard a few steps back. She tossed a kick that took off Alucard's arm. She punched him in the sternum, totally shattering his rib cage. Maria's left foot connected with Alucard's right kneecap, kicking his lower leg right off. She was slowly pushing him towards the blue fire, hoping that he would burn as well. _

_She aimed a punch at Alucard's neck that would have taken his head off. Alucard's head snapped up and he looked deeply into her eyes. _

_Joham was shocked by the sight before him. He had killed before, as a human and as a vampire. He had made himself apathetic to suffering when it suited him. But this was beyond anything he'd ever seen. All that he knew was that this vampire, this Alucard, was a man who lived to cross boundaries. _

_Alucard looked Maria in the eyes and she froze like the statue that she was. The flames closed, they were merely feet away from the pair. Alucard's face was ghastly in the blue light. His teeth were as white as bleached bone and his eyes were like rubies held up to a bright light. His white hair and moustache floated as if he were underwater. _

_Under the power of Alucard's hypnosis, Maria was totally at his mercy, or lack thereof. _

_Joham watched with horror as Alucard personally finished off the last of the Unstet. He watched Alucard twist off her head like a man twisting the lid off of a bottle. Watched her body go up in flames as her still living head rested in Alucard's hands. _

_Alucard looked Maria in the face, "Please, don't scream or cry, you can suffer later." Maria could neither scream nor cry. Unstet could not cry at all. And she could not scream because she had no lungs to make sound with. _

_And just like that, Alucard tore open her skull with his teeth. _

_Joham gasped at the sight of this, he felt as though his insides had turned into jelly. _

_Alucard ate Maria's brain in two bites as the fire closed around them. _

_Joham couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. There was now only one person standing in his line of sight, that person wore only black and had white hair. Alucard looked so satisfied at the deaths he had caused. Suddenly he looked up and saw that he was being watched. _

_Joham felt fear as Alucard stared him in the eyes across the vast distance. He felt real fear, the likes of which he had not felt in a long time. "Let's get out of here."_

_Newfoundland, Canada, present day_

Joham breathed, "I know of Alucard."

Dok elaborated, "I vish to put Alucard into a position where he will have to release his zero restriction."

"The zero restriction?"

"Ja, the final restriction on his powers."

This idea frightened Joham, to think that on that day long ago, Alucard hadn't been at full power. "Why do you wish to see something like that?"

Dok smiled wider, "Vhen I see what he can do, then I can work to surpass him." Dok surveyed Joham, "You have seen him, seen the power he vields."

Joham's voice was small, "I've seen Alucard fight. It was beautiful. It was terrible. He is the realization of my dream to build a master race and the sum total of my nightmares." He gave Dok a serious look, "If you endeavor to surpass him, just remember to give him his proper respect. Otherwise you will underestimate him."

Dok asked, "Vill you help me?"

"You're asking me to participate in this insanity to help in surpassing a being that will probably never be surpassed. Of course I will".

Dok raised his voice in jubilation, "JA, JA JA JA JA JA, I mean, ja. Das ist great. CAPTAIN, bring in those strudels that I haff been baking."

No sooner did he say that than did an eight foot tall man in trench coat and Nazi regalia walk into the room. The face that the man was holding the hot metal pan in bare hands was proof enough that he wasn't human.

Joham gasped, "Is this one of the children of the moon, the true werewolves?"

Dok smiled at the stoic giant, "Definitely Joham. Now, I am hungry und I am eager to taste these strudels."

* * *

Thank you Thank you everybody. Send in those reviews. I eat those up like food. Don't forgett to review Hellsing Trek and my comic book crossover. I love all my readers, don't forgett that.

See ya

Master of teh Boot


	15. Meeting Giles

The Big Hellsing: Chapter Fifteen

Meeting Giles

Disclaimer: I am making no profit. But I should be, shouldn't I?

_Except from the Diary of Abraham Van Helsing_

_June 30__th__, 1895_

_Vampire, the word is enough to incite holy hatred and crippling fear in my heart. Vampire, what is it? Vampire is merely an umbrella term for a vast host of creatures which sometimes share very little in common. All vampires are united by three criteria, all have superhuman ability, all enjoy seemingly endless longevity and most importantly; all vampires feed on human blood. _

_Some vampires are children of the devil, the product of all that is diabolical and hellish. Others are biological curiosities, sharing more in common with the Black Death than with the demons depicted in the church's iconography. None the less, all vampires, whether caused by a pact with Satan or by a biological illness, must be destroyed. _

_Among the myriad breeds of vampire, two in particular stand out in my mind. The first that concerns me is the breed which styles itself as Nosferatu. Nosferatu are without a doubt, foremost among all vampires. Theirs is the greatest strength, theirs is the greatest mystical power, theirs are the sharpest fangs, and theirs are the sharpest claws and keenest vision and most sensitive noses and the greatest evil. _

_But for all of their strengths, the Nosferatu can be beaten. They are vulnerable to relics of holy significance; even objects of a pagan nature have proven to be highly effective in stopping their murderous rampages. The cross, among the simplest of holy symbols is the most hateful to them. It clouds their minds and saps away at their coordination of body and powers. The wooden stake and the silver bullet may send them back to the dust from which they were made. For the past two hundred years or so their species has been in a slow but steady state of decline, which brings me to my next point. _

_Earlier I had mentioned of two vampire species of which I take special note, one of which was Nosferatu. The other genus of vampire which troubles me are the Unstet. These creatures disturb me, perhaps more so than even the dreaded Nosferatu. Unstet are unique amongst vampires in that they are completely without weakness. _

_Some vampires are vulnerable to silver, some to the sun's rays, others fear wooden stakes or sometimes cold iron, but the Unstet fear none of that. All recorded studies of Unstet have revealed the disturbing fact that these creatures are without weakness. They are immune to silver, garlic, sunlight and a thousand other anti-vampire methods. All hours of the day belong to them equally. They go where they please, when they please. They never sleep; their minds are always alert and vigilant. _

_Their strength is not the greatest amongst vampires, the dread Nosferatu can outmatch them once they have reached the class of master. _

_I am babbling, I do that sometimes when I start to think about such things. _

_The reason that they disturb me so is that it is impossible for a human being to kill an Unstet. It is as though their kind are perfectly formed to destroy ours. Modern firearms are useless against them, failing to even break the skin. And even if a human did have a weapon sharp and hard enough to cut them, that human would lack the strength to cut through their stone flesh. _

_It is as if they are not vampires at all, but statues. Yes I say it; they are living statues, transformed by some ethereal medusa into stone but continue to live. So then, how could a human being destroy a creature such as these? It would be impossible. _

_However, that is not to say that they cannot be destroyed. The only way to kill an Unstet is with a stronger vampire. _

_May God have mercy on my soul for what I plan to do. I have located a stronger vampire, the strongest of them all. He is the one that they formerly called king, but for the past two hundred years he has increasingly distanced himself from his former kingdom and his allies. The thrice cursed Volturi are providing me with intelligence regarding this vampire. They have even left me with a liaison, a funny Irish Unstet called Bram Stoker, as pleasant as a vampire can be. _

_If there were ever a time to strike at the vampire king, now would be it. I pray for forgiveness for what I am planning to create. _

_Sunnydale, California, Local Bowling Alley_

The local bowling alley in Sunnydale didn't have a very original name, it was literally called, "_The Local Bowling Alley_." In fact, virtually nothing in Sunnydale had an original name. Seemingly the sole exception to this rule was a bar designated, "_The Bronze_." Apparently, buildings in this town got destroyed so often that it just wasn't worth the effort to give a place an original name.

Last year alone, the bowling alley had burned down twice and the local high school had been blown up in an incident which was of the more mystical nature. To Integra Hellsing, the place represented everything that was wrong with the United States of America. There was fast food everywhere, greasy stuff that had cardiac arrest written all over it. The girls all were anorexic bubble heads that made Integra ashamed of being blond. And to crown in all, the people were just so damned ignorant.

More people in this town died of vampire and demon attacks than in any other place in the world. But when asked about vampires, ninety percent of the town's folk thought that you were either crazy or were talking about a movie.

In addition to all that, Integra had met some quite ignorant people in this town. She'd been called Mexican by some youth named Warren and propositioned. It had taken Integra's all not to cripple the young man right there. Instead, she'd left the young man with a rather harsh tongue lashing that had damaged his ego to the point where it'd be a week before he could even look at a woman. Integra was a civilized person, when you were civilized you had to refrain from acting like a savage and be the bigger person, instead of putting that other person into a wheelchair for the rest of their life.

Now, inside the bowling alley, Integra was sitting face to face with Rupert Giles, resident watcher. To say the least, Rupert had seen better days. The elderly British fellow's nose had been broken and was now being set with conspicuous white bandages. Giles whole face was covered in stitches from where Ralph Cifaretto had taken the fine china and broken every single piece of it over Rupert's face.

Integra asked him, "How are your injuries, Rupert?"

"Bloody awful, thank you for asking." Today, Rupert's patience was damn near its end. He was in continual pain and the painkillers needed a supercomputer to count all their side effects. "Honestly Integra, I fail to see the need for your visit here."

Integra leaned forward in the uncomfortable plastic chair, "Rupert, my coming here is of the utmost significance. I want to wear from you word for word what happened that night so that I and various associates can ascertain who did this to you."

Rupert was about to retort when Seras Victoria walked up to Integra and asked, "Uh, Sir Integra, the manager says that we have to start bowling or they'll kick us out. May I please have some money so that Buffy and I can start a game?"

Integra handed Seras a handful of bills but otherwise ignored the juvenile Nosferatu. "I need information so that I can act."

Rupert took off his glasses from his ruined face, "Excuse me?"

"I need you to tell me who attacked you."

Rupert was livid, "Integra, you already know who fucking attacked me! Why the fuck haven't you acted already?"

This time, Buffy butted in, the resident slayer, "You shouldn't swear like that Giles, plus I need some change for a _Mars Bar_."

Giles reached for his wallet and plunked a handful of quarters into Buffy's hand, "BUFFY I AM IN A GREAT DEAL OF PAIN! Just focus on your game right now." With that Matter taken care of Rupert continued, "Integra, the man admitted he said that he worked for Tony Soprano. What I don't understand is why haven't you sent your pet vampire to take care of that thieving wop?"

Integra held up a hand to halt Giles, "Step down for a moment Rupert; the drugs have clearly put up some mental blocks."

Rupert looked at Integra, "Stop treating me like an inferior. Integra, I am having an extremely bad several days. Not only do these scoundrels ransack my home, steal everything of value and brutally beat me but their leader also urinated on my rug."

"Who peed on Giles rug?" Buffy asked.

Integra shot the slayer a hard look, "Were you listening to Rupert's story, Buffy?"

"No, I was bowling."

"So you have no frame of reference, you're like a child that wanders into the middle of a movie, look, just keep bowling." Integra brushed off Buffy.

"Integra, you know who is responsible, who why haven't you acted?"

Integra pointed in Rupert's face, "There is an excellent reason that I haven't acted Rupert and it's-

Buffy cut Integra off, "What are you acting about?"

Integra shoed Buffy away, "Buffy, please stay out of this." As the young slayer took her turn bowling she explained, "As I was saying, I have an excellent reason for not acting and it is-

Buffy cut her off again, "Okay, somebody tell me what's going on."

Integra's temper rose, "Buffy you are out of your element. Rupert, I didn't act instantly because I have a very good reason. I had a solid reason, an indisputable reason. I drew a sign in the sand that said "YOU DO NOT!" Also Rupert, "wop" is not the preferred nomenclature, Italian-American please."

Giles rolled his eyes at Integra's outburst, "Integra, this man is not a plumber or a pizzeria owner, he's a gangster. Tony Soprano is the lowest element of humanity, how can't you believe it was him."

"Because I know Tony Soprano, Rupert. I know what he fears. The man is paranoid about vampires and terrorists harming his family. That is why he has always been such an invaluable ally in my fight against the undead. He is also aware of the significance of your and Buffy's presence in this town. Obviously some man of his acted without consent, the hard part is just finding that man."

Rupert had to agree with Integra's logic. His attention was then caught by an elated shriek from Buffy. Young Buffy had gotten a strike and was now beating her vampire opponent in the game. Likewise, Seras seemed deflated now that the other blond was in the lead.

Seras sat down for a moment next to Integra, "So, how are you enjoying yourself, Sir Integra?"

Integra shrugged, "Fine, just fine, I believe that it's your turn now." The Hellsing director turned back to Giles, "Anyways Rupert, I'm going to need a complete list of what was stolen from your home."

Before the two of them could go any further they heard somebody yell, "OVER THE LINE! YOU WERE OVER THE LINE!" Seras stood, pointing an accusatory finger at Buffy. Seras then explained to Buffy in a calm voice, "Sorry Buffy, but you were over the line. That's zero points for you."

Buffy bristled at Seras accusations, "Excuse me, but at no point was I over the line."

Seras looked at Buffy, her ocean blue eyes slowly turning red, "Buffy, this is bowling, not war. There are rules and we have to follow them, so I'm sorry but you'll have to mark it zero."

Buffy took a step closer, "Like, you must have bad eyesight, because I wasn't over the line."

Seras looked over to Integra with eyes that were now red as new blood, "Sir Integra, this girl was over the line."

Integra responded, "Seras, I don't care. Just sort it out amongst yourselves."

Buffy looked to Giles, "Giles, give me the marker."

In response to this, Seras arm started to change. It shape shifted from a regular arm into a swirling mass of shadow that formed and unformed bizarre geometric shapes. "Buffy, if you mark that frame at anything other than zero then I promise you that only bad things will happen."

Buffy pressed on regardless, "Giles, the marker?"

Seras suddenly screamed out, "HAS THE WHOLE WORL D GONE CRAZY? AM I THE ONLY ONE THAT GIVES A SHITE ABOUT THE RULES ANYMORE?" The sheer force of Seras rage made the lights dim and the walls shake.

Buffy whipped out a stake from her pocket and held it in such a way that suggested she knew how to use it. Buffy bent her knees and put herself into fighting stance.

"MARK IT ZERO!" Seras screamed, her voice came out in an inhuman banshee wail.

But Buffy didn't flinch; she bared her teeth as though welcoming Seras to try something.

"MARK IT ZERO!!" Seras screamed louder at Buffy.

Integra called to Buffy, "Just mark it zero!"

Seras swung her shadow arm around at the patrons of the bowling alley, "IF YOU THINK I'M FUCKING AROUND YOU'RE WRONG. MARK IT ZERO OR I'LL KILL EVERYONE IN THIS PLACE!"

Integra had enough of this; she sprinted over to Buffy and shoved a marker into her hand. She pleaded with Buffy, "For the love of God, mark it zero."

Slowly, Buffy put down the stake. Then she walked over to the score board and marked it zero. At that moment, the lights returned to their former brightness and Seras shadow arm took on the form of her usual arm, "There, are you happy you crazy bitch?"

As the red left her eyes, Seras looked as though she jus now only understood what she had said and done. She tried to respond, tried to say something. Seras ran out the front doors of the bowling alley.

Integra tracked Seras leaving with her brilliant azure eyes, unusually full of empathy. Integra rose up from her seat and over her shoulder called to Giles, "I'll be back in five minutes."

Integra calmly walked through the dark parking lot towards the rental car. There in the front seat of the nondescript blue car was Seras, she was crying. Tears of blood dripped down her face as the closed windows and doors muffled her sobs.

Without saying a word, Integra stepped into the driver's seat. Seras recoiled from Integra's presence but the elder woman took no notice of this. Seras begged Integra between sobs, "Please . . . d-d-don't, I'm not safe."

"No you're not safe, neither is Alucard, neither is Walter."

Seras sobbed some more but tried to reign in her turbulent emotions, "No, y-you don't understand. I meant it."

Integra sighed, "Explain if it makes you feel better."

Seras looked up, streams of drying blood on her face, her voice barely a whisper, "When I said that I was going to kill everyone, I meant it. I was even going to kill you."

Integra turned slowly, "Seras, you are a vampire. As such, you are a threat to everything with a heartbeat." These words only dragged Seras down further but Integra continued, "I can tell though, that you have a legitimate desire to be less threatening."

Seras sobbed a little more and fresh tears leaked from her eyes, "I try, I try so very hard. But this thing . . . i-i-it just springs out of nowhere. All of the sudden I just become . . . like that."

Integra was entirely honest with Seras, "I can't pretend to understand what you are going through, but I assure that you won't go through it alone. I'll be there to assist you in any way I can. Alucard will be there for you as well, even If I have to order him."

The kind words from Integra stopped Seras weeping. Integra reached into her pocket and withdrew some tissue papers, "Clean yourself off, in this state you're liable to frighten some one."

Seras giggled a little bit at Integra's Joke, "Thank you, for everything really."

Integra gave Seras a sardonic smile, "Believe me Seras, my variety of help hurts, but it works. I'll help you solve your problem even if I have to carry a shotgun with me everywhere and talk you down with it."

Seras gave a nervous giggle, "Do you think that they called the police?"

Now Integra laughed, "In this town, not very likely. Based on what I've heard the police force here is the worst in the world."

Seras finished wiping the dried and wet blood from her face, "Do you think that Buffy and I can finish our game?"

"Now that depends on what Buffy has to say, let's go inside Police Girl."

Seras and Integra walked towards the entrance of the bowling alley when they noticed two figures blocking their path. They looked like a pair of bored college students, dressed in white pants and colorful red sweaters. Integra and Seras looked at each other, it was time to get into what Integra called, "_Business mode_."

"Look her Joe, two beautiful women. One of them actually has warm blood in her veins."

Joe's partner responded, "I want the one with the big melons, I already ate." With that the faces of the two men changed, warping, becoming heavy in the brow and demonic. Integra narrowed her eyes and whipped out her handgun. These were what Alucard had nicknamed dustbin vampires, their species true name escaping Integra at the moment.

Joe actually laughed at Integra's gun, "Sorry little lady, but that's not going to do much to us, except maybe ruin our clothes." Both of them started laughing at Integra, it would be the last mistake they ever made.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

Integra fired off four shots in rapid succession. She shot Joe in the knees and his friend in the eyes. Joe screamed about how she had shot him in the fucking knees. Joe's friend screamed about how he couldn't fucking see. Integra used her left hand to grab a large Gurkha knife from out of her coat. She instructed Seras, "You've had enough excitement for one night, let me finish these two."

Seras wanted to say otherwise but the look on Integra's face allowed no dissent. There were two quick chopping noises and then Joe and friend were nothing but dust.

Integra blew the dust off her blade before saying to Seras, "We have to hurry if you want to continue your game with Buffy."

* * *

And that wraps up this chapter of the Big Hellsing. I had a lot of fun writing this and I'll have even more fun reading all your reviews. Just remember, I welcome all reviews. I welcome suggestions, requests, criticisms and even flames. With that said, have a fun day and have a good time.

Ta

Master of the Boot


	16. The Dhampir and the Paladin

The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair

Chapter Sixteen: The Dhampir and the Paladin

Disclaimer: In the name of Alucard, Integra and Seras Victoria, amen.

_Washington State, Edward and Bella's Meadow_

Bella and Edward were happy, why wouldn't they be? They were going to be married. Edward would join Bella in the holy matrimony he desired and Bella would join Edward among the ranks of the immaculate Unstet. It was a win-win situation.

Bella didn't share Edward's enthusiasm for marriage, herself haunted by stories of her mother Renee's own high school marriage. But Bella was willing to bet that her marriage would go a lot better than her mom's did.

Edward didn't understand Bella's enthusiasm about becoming a vampire. Being a vampire really wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. The largest problem with being a vampire was the omnipresent need to kill human beings. The only vampire that Edward knew of that had seemingly overcome this need was Carlisle.

Edward believed that by becoming a vampire, you forfeited your soul. Both Alucard and Carlisle had begged to differ. Carlisle had told Edward the day after he proposed, "Regardless of what has happened to your body, you are still Edward Masen at heart. The possession of a soul is a thing more related to the state of mind than the state of your body. Alucard had told Edward, "Unstet do not lose their souls, not like the Nosferatu do. So if you truly wish to damn her to eternal hell, let me turn her."

Still, Carlisle and Alucard both seemed to not matter one whit while he and Bella were in the meadow. It was their secret, special place. Here, they could just get away from the outside world and have only each other. Here they were safe from Rosalie's selfishness, Alice's overzealousness and the constant teasing of Emmet and Jasper.

Edward stood there shirtless in the sunlight, a rare thing in a place like forks. Unstet avoided the sun so that they could blend in, but still they loved the sun. It made them happy, brightened their countenance and exposed their beauty to its fullest. Only in the Southern warzones did Unstet avoid the sun altogether.

While he sparkled, Bella volunteered to take off her own shirt. It was an offer which Edward was sorely tempted to accept. But instead he told her that she could take it off if she got hot. As though she weren't hot enough in Edward's eyes.

The pair was like a paragon of happiness and contentment. They laughed and danced in the idyllic meadow as only those two lovers could have. Edward held Bella fast as he leapt into the air; his fiancée clung tight and giggled as soon as they were safely on the ground. The danced some of the faster dances that Edward had learned during the fifties and sixties. The soft grasses provided excellent padding for Bella, who tripped over her two left feet more than once.

Alas, it seemed that this little bubble of happiness, only fifteen minutes old, was destined to pop.

Bella breathed heavily from her attempts at dancing, "You know what, I think that I'm ready to take off my shirt now."

Edward, ever the gentleman, tried to tell Bella that it really wasn't necessary, but part of him was grateful that Bella wasn't going to listen. When the shirt was halfway over her face, her ears were met with the sound of Edward growling.

Bella spun around to see what had Edward on edge, the shirt still obscuring half of her face. That was when she saw _him_.

He stood there about fifteen paces away from Edward and Bella. In the colorful and bright meadow, he was a pillar of shadow. It was a man, or perhaps a boy, hardly older than Edward looked, but with features filled with such sadness. He was clad in long black cloak and equally black tactical gear. On his head there was an enormous hat that must have equaled the one that Alucard wore.

Dark brown locks of hair spilled from underneath his hat, reaching nearly to his waist. His long hair also served the double purpose of partially obscuring his face. Only the eyes were clearly visible through the curtain of gorgeous brown hair. They were the most gorgeous eyes she had ever seen, barring Edward's. The stranger's eyes were like a pair of sapphires of infinite worth.

Mortified that the stranger was seeing her exposed midriff, Bella pulled down her shirt as quickly as possible.

The dark stranger however made no notice at all of this. His voice was young, but still had an air of despair to it, "I am D the Hunter." There was a mild breeze which parted the hair from the hunter's face.

Bella gasped as she looked into the face of Vampire Hunter D. He was beautiful beyond all form of measure. Edward in direct sunlight could approach the beauty of this creature but not surpass it.

But for all of his unearthly beauty, there was something inexplicably sinister about D, which was more than his gloomy way of dressing. Where he stood, the plants seemed turn away from him. They would uproot if they could. Where he looked, the birds and the animals went silent and fled. His very presence seemed to dim the sun and dull colors around him.

He didn't belong in Bella's world. He belonged in Alucard's world, the world of madness, shadow and chaos. To Bella, D would have seemed perfectly at home in a graveyard on a moonless night or in the middle of a mass grave driving stakes through the hearts of those with suspicious bite marks.

In every way he was a stranger and an unwelcome one. The entire meadow seemed to reject D and his ethereal presence, like an immune system trying to be rid of a nasty pathogen. But D would not be moved by anything until he had done what he first set out to do.

D observed Edward's aggressive stance, "I was hired to kill you and her if she was not already turned." D relayed this information to Edward as though he was telling Edward about the state of the weather.

Edward was about to pounce on D when the hunter held up his hands, "Peace, it is not my intent to harm either of you. I came here to speak with your bride to be."

Bella blushed as the young god looked at her directly, "Uh, hi." Mentally, she kicked herself for not picking a better choice of words.

D didn't even blink, "My employer gave me detailed information on both of you. I know that you wish to be turned. I want you to renege that wish."

Bella tilted her head a little bit; she didn't know what renege meant.

Edward sensed Bella's confusion and explained, "He wants you to not become a vampire."

Bella knew her answer; she didn't need to think about it, "No, I want to be with my Edward forever. I'd die without him."

D's visage darkened a little bit, "I was afraid of that answer. I was afraid that you truly do not understand what it is you are asking for."

Edward spoke to the vampire hunter, "Believe me dhampir, I've tried to explain."

Bella was too shocked to ask what the word dhampir meant, "Whose side are you on, his or mine?"

D's melodious voice once more issued forth, "You don't understand, all you've seen is nothing. Have you any idea what it's like to have to live with the hunger for blood? It is especially strong for his kind of vampire."

Bella gave D an impetuous look, "I'll just learn to live with it."

D was this close to frowning. In the hundred some years of his life, this was proving to be his hardest challenge, convincing a dense girl to change her viewpoint. So he tried something unusual, he revealed something about himself, "I am dhampir, that means that I am half Nosferatu. Though I can resist the urges of my father, they are always present, waiting for my will to weaken. If you change, you can resist the urges, but you will fail, it is only a matter of time."

"Edward didn't fail; beat that Mr. I'm-so-gorgeous."

D stiffened for a moment, in a smooth motion; his right hand began to move towards the sword on his back that Bella failed to notice.

Edward bared his teeth, feverishly wishing that he had another stop sign.

"Behind you" D said.

Edward looked behind him, all too late. Two blades blessed by the Holy See cut downwards and parallel to the sides of Edward's head, chopping his body into three thick slices. Before Edward could fall to pieces, Alexander Anderson chopped off his head.

Edward's head sailed through the air for a moment; while his brain was intact he could hear Anderson's thoughts.

_Ring around the rosie, pocket full of posie, husha husha, we all DIE!!!!_

Screaming loudly, Anderson drove a bayonet through Edward's forehead. The force with which Anderson flung the blade at Edward's head caused it to fly some distance before struck a tree and was pinned there like an insect under glass.

Bella screamed Edward's name, but Paladin Anderson was past the point of feeling empathy. He drove an elbow into Bella's face, not hard enough to do serious damage, just enough to knock her out.

Anderson surveyed his surroundings, Bella lay on the ground with a bloody nose and Edward's head was nailed to a tree with a bayonet. He couldn't be happier. Alexander Anderson threw back his head and started to laugh. It was a jubilant and insane laugh. The sound of his laugh could make all the other inmates in the nut house stop and shiver.

"Ahem."

Anderson whipped around, snapping out of his regenerator's psychosis. It was at that point that he noticed the dhampir hunter, "Oh, ah nearly forgot aboot ye."

SCHING!

Anderson whipped out two bayonets from his sleeves.

D remained unruffled, "I have to say, what you did seems very unchristian."

Anderson cocked his head, "Unchristian, ye me o' bein unchristian. Ah just saved this lass's soul."

D glanced at Bella's unconscious form, "And gave her a concussion in the process."

Anderson began to walk leisurely towards D, "Ah think tha's small wee price ta pay for yer salvation."

D remained rooted on the spot as clouds started to dim the sunlight, "I don't think you've stopped her from becoming a vampire. I think that you've only increased her desire to be changed."

Anderson's glasses shone with an unearthly glare in the cloud generated twilight, "If that be the case, then ah'll just have ta stake and burn her beloved Edward."

D's voice grew slightly harder, "You should leave now."

Anderson stood until he and D were face to face, their noses could have almost touched if it wasn't for D's hat and Anderson's greater height. Anderson looked into the face of the dhampir; his perfect features were strangely familiar. "I will" Anderson promised.

For about one second, Anderson just looked the hunter in the eye. Then he struck. Anderson aimed his blades at D's heart when all of the sudden.

Anderson grunted with pain, he hadn't even scratched the hunter when D had already thrust his long sword through Anderson's heart. Anderson gritted his teeth; he slashed D across the throat with a bayonet.

D jumped back gurgling; blood spurted from his severed arteries. Anderson didn't let up for an instant; he jumped after the dhampir like a frog going after a fly. D's blood flew everywhere, getting all over Anderson's face and glasses.

The two of them were in mid air now, both having leapt the height of a ten story building. Anderson collided with D in a flash of steel and silver. Anderson tried to chop D as he'd chopped Edward but D's great sword parried the blow.

Gravity began to overtake them when D struck out with his left fist and punched Anderson right on the nose. The blow hit Anderson so hard that he flew right out of the meadow and landed in the dense forest.

Anderson hit the ground like a meteorite, his body digging a trench in the earth and shattering the trunks of mighty trees. Anderson got up shakily, nearly all of his internal organs were suffering damage but they, like his nose, were healing rapidly. Anderson couldn't remember the last time somebody hit him so hard. Or maybe he could.

Anderson looked through the cracked and bloody lenses of his glasses to see the hunter leaping through the air. D's cape flew out behind him, giving the impression of a great bat. The Paladin of Iscariot grunted with rage, the psychosis already starting to overtake him.

D sailed through the air, his neck was not fully healed but the bleeding had stopped. His sword was held over his head, preparing for a downward chop. When he hit the ground, he was going to use the momentum to split Paladin Anderson in twain.

D was sailing towards the ground like a bolt of lightning when the Paladin took the offensive. Anderson bent his knees and shot up like a rocket. His fist connected with D's stomach.

Both of them hit the ground, one of them in better condition than the other. Anderson had punched D with enough force to send his intestines out of his mouth. The dhampir lay on the ground, vomiting blood.

Anderson wasted no time in acting. Laughing, he pulled out of his jacket two more bayonets and lunged. Anderson swung his blades in a wide arc, trying to lop off the dhampir's head.

D rolled out of the way just in time; Anderson's blades met only air. D did not get far before he felt the bite of Anderson's bayonets. One of the blessed blades was lodged in D's chest, narrowly missing his heart.

Anderson's green eyes practically glowed; the regenerator's psychosis had completely overtaken his mind. In his psychotic state, Anderson started to twist the blade in D's chest, hoping to evoke a scream. However the dhampir did not make an outcry.

D's features were contorted with pain, and fury. Acting on instinct, he slashed the Paladin's face with his sharp fingernails. Anderson cried out but he did not let go of his blessed blade.

Displaying a speed that was beyond even Paladin Anderson, D yanked the blessed blade from his chest and drove it right through Anderson's eye. Anderson, with his eyes slashed open, blindly tried to attack D with his bayonet.

Like a cobra, D struck, ducking under Anderson's blow before grabbing Anderson's massive hand and breaking his wrist hard enough that some of the bones were protruding through the skin.

All of this only served to drive Anderson into an ever greater fury. Not pausing to let his eyes or wrist heal or even to grab another bayonet, Anderson began to slash and punch at where ever he thought D was standing. Wrist broken, his hand never let go of the blade, slashing down a tree like it was a blade of grass. His good left hand shattered a boulder like it was an egg.

D leapt out of the way of Anderson's murderous rampage and raced for his sword. D felt the handle of his long crescent sword and mixed feelings came to his heart. On the one hand, it was good to have his weapon back; this thing was like a part of him. On the other hand, his hand was covered in Paladin Anderson's blood, which was as thick as honey and just as sticky. So as much as he disliked it, he was going to have to get sticky regenerator's blood on his sword handle.

Anderson's sight was beginning to return to him, the bones in his wrist were healing, but his glasses were busted and he had thin, oily dhampir's blood on his face and clothes. In a nutshell, Anderson was mad. But there was something bothering him, he just couldn't shake the feeling that the dhampir was familiar, that he had seen him before.

One eye could only see in shapes but the other was nearly at one hundred percent capacity. With his one good eye, he could see the dhampir, merely a blackish blur.

The sound of bayonet hitting sword was as loud as thunder. Anderson struggled, the strength of a Paladin pitted against that of a vampire hunter. Anderson was throwing the whole of his strength into this, his blade felt as though it were about to snap. The dhampir before him wore a cool and implacable expression just as he had previously. D's sword was creating sparks against Anderson's bayonet, damaging both blades.

It was then that Anderson realized just who D looked like. The dhampir was the spitting image of Alucard! They both had the same aquiline features, the strong nose and full lips. Was this dhampir, this half breed, was he the son of the most powerful vampire on earth. It seemed to make sense, he'd seen both vampires and dhampirs that were strong, fast and healed quickly, but none compared wit this creature, except for Alucard.

If Anderson was angry before, it was nothing compared to the fury that he was feeling now. Knowing that Alucard's evil had propagated in more ways than one filled him with the strongest fury that he'd ever felt.

In a moment, D was put on the offensive as Paladin Anderson rained down swarms of bayonets like God raining down the biblical plagues. There were so many bayonets that D had to either dodge of deflect that Paladin Anderson was totally obscured.

Suddenly, Paladin Anderson just seemed to spring out of nowhere, flying as though he had wings. He zipped over D's shoulder, catching a thick fistful of the dhampir's hair.

_Port Angeles, Washington State_

In Port Angeles things were quiet, people went about their lives, blissfully and dangerously unaware of the world of vampires, werewolves, regenerators and bio-organic weapons that fought it out in their back yards. Merely because the simple folk of Port Angeles were unaware of this hidden world did not mean that this hidden world couldn't spring up from the depths from time to time.

There was a girl walking the streets of Port Angeles, her name was Angela Weber. She was a resident of the town of Forks and she only visited Port Angeles because there was nothing to do in her hometown. Today, she had wanted to go shopping but nobody had agreed to go with her.

She'd tried to contact Bella Swan, but that girl was off spending time with Edward Cullen. Angela liked Bella, but exactly how she was able to snare _Edward Cullen_ when all others had failed was simply beyond her.

Angela was shocked out of her little reverie when suddenly; a lamppost next to her was smashed. Angela jumped at the sound of metal twisting.

Four or five blocks down, a mailbox suddenly fell into two pieces, as though it had been sliced in half by a very sharp blade.

Somebody's car was utterly demolished as though something with incredible speed had collided with it.

Anderson and D fought like a pair of primordial gods, all they needed now was some kind of apocalyptic setting as their battleground. D and Anderson were moving too fast for the human eye to see. All that could be seen of them was the trail of destruction.

In a real fight, it is hard to say in one place at a time. When an enemy shifts, you have to shift with him to maintain a favorable position. Anderson and D were moving so fast that soon they had long left Port Angeles and were now in Seattle.

To avoid collateral damage, D started to run up the side of a sky scraper as though it were a steep hill and not a completely vertical surface. Anderson dashed after D, using his bayonets to find purchase.

_Meanwhile: London, England_

"A wedding, this is perfect" Integra smiled as her cigar gave off a lazy stream of smoke.

Alucard agreed with her, "Indeed Master, this will allow me to spend more time with my dear old friend. It will also allow me time to terrorize those little faggots that seem to have latched onto Carlisle."

Integra exhaled smoke but kept on smiling, "I could care less about that. This wedding couldn't have come at a more fortuitous time. This will be the perfect opportunity to meet with Tony Soprano and find the culprits behind the stolen money _and _the attack on Rupert Giles."

Alucard smiled, "You're looking awfully happy Master, I thought you didn't like Tony Soprano?"

Integra leaned back into her chair, "Tony Soprano is a fat, sleazy degenerate who eats far too much refined flour. What I enjoy is operating outside the law and tracking down those who have wronged us. That is what makes all the paperwork worthwhile."

"Why master, I didn't know you were such a little rebel, breaking the law no less. I have taught you well."

That took the smile off of Integra's face, "Get the fuck out of here Alucard."

"As you wish."

_Seattle, Washington State_

Anderson and D battle on the side of the forty two story tall Smith Tower. What had begun as clouds obscuring the sun had now evolved into a full blown thunderstorm. It was rather fortunate because the thunder was hiding the sound of D and Anderson's weapons clashing.

A dhampir couldn't just walk on walls like a full blown Nosferatu, but they could cling to surfaces as well as any gecko. D's hair had grown back where Anderson has ripped out great locks of it; it was now plastered against his back by the thick rain.

Anderson was the Lord God of Madness, all in capital letters. The conclusion that this was Alucard's son drove him past insane. He flung scores of blessed blades at D, usually with one hand. Anderson always had a bayonet dug into the walls of the building.

D breached Anderson's defenses, driving his sword into Anderson's eye. This time though, Anderson just smiled at the blade that tickled his frontal lobe. A bayonet shot from his free hand and buried itself into D's knee.

Anderson pounced on D like a Lion. He began to gnaw on D's sublime face like a starving man attacking a morsel; his beautiful white teeth crushed bones and pulped skin.

D tried to pry Anderson off, clawing out his eyes and ripping his flesh to shreds. But none of it had any effect on Anderson; he was truly immune to pain now.

Anderson pulled away after he bit off D's beautiful nose. Suddenly, D froze; one of Anderson's bayonets lay there, stuck in his heart.

The pair of them started to fall when Anderson grabbed D's dying body and pushed off the side of the building. Both of them landed well outside city limits.

Anderson landed right on top of D, breaking half of all the dhampir's bones. Anderson looked with a grin that appeared painted on. Without a wink, he drove the bayonet deeper, and killed D.

As soon as D was dead, Anderson began to return to normal. Anderson breathed heavily, that was farther than he'd ever gone before. He could recall every single detail from that fight.

Anderson sat down next to D's corpse, just breathing in deeply. Anderson got up, this was the most tired that he'd felt in his life. He was going to need new glasses after this and a new cell phone. Anderson just looked sadly at the remains of his cellular phone; it must have been damaged in the fall. "Ah really liked this phone."

He started to walk towards the city when all of the sudden, a rock hit him in the head. He yelped and then started to spin around the clearing. "Who threw tha', who threw tha' rock?"

"I did" a gruff voice said.

"Where are ye, show yerselves!"

The gruff voice spoke again, "Over here Private Peckerwood."

Anderson looked around; there was nobody there except him and the dead dhampir.

"General Dickface, over here, by the pretty boy." Anderson looked to the dhampir's body, his left arm was moving, waving to him.

His curiosity got the better of him as Anderson approached the former hunter. He kneeled down and looked at the dhampir's left hand. Other than the face that it moved while he was dead, there was nothing abnormal about it.

That was when it showed itself. In the palm of D's left hand a little wizened face formed. The face had two beady black eyes and crooked little teeth. The face in D's left hand said to Anderson, "Hello sailor, you new to this part of town?"

Anderson gasped, he'd read about this but had never thought he'd actually see one for himself, "A demon!"

The left hand chuckled, "Right-a-Reno. You church types aren't as stupid as I remember. I'm D's hand; you want to greet any other body parts while you're here?"

Anderson reached into his long jacket, "Laugh while ye can, minion of Satan, I will banish ye from this realm."

The parasite in D's hand laughed, "I'm scared shitless over here, unless you've got Jesus stashed in your pocket or up your ass some place, I'm not going anywhere."

Anderson sneered, "We'll see aboot tha'." He pulled out a clear glass bottle from his pocket that was very ornate, "**Holy Water**." Anderson said this in his most sinister voice.

He started to pour the holy water all over the parasite, who noisily slurped up the clear fluid. "This holy water tastes like crap, next time just bless some tap water."

"Shut up hell spawn, in eh minute ye'll feel the lord's divine presence."

The parasite raised an eyebrow, "You know, only ten percent of all demons are satanic. And only five percent of those can actually possess people."

Anderson started to grumble and rummage through his jacket, looking for his regular holy bible, the one that he didn't use for teleportation.

Suddenly, Anderson saw a bible page fly past his face. Then he saw two more, and three more and six more and then a whole flock of bible pages orbiting around him. He looked into his front pocket and saw that his teleportation bible had been activated.

He gasped as he faced the little demon, "Bastard!"

Lefty chuckled, "So long Captain Crazy, hope you like Mexico." And with that, Anderson vanished from the clearing.

With Anderson gone, the parasite could finally do its work. "Alrigh then, back to my thankless job." Lefty maneuvered D's arm towards the dirt where he started to take a big bite of soil. With that accomplished, Lefty sucked up a great mass of air, like a vortex.

It was all set; he'd eaten the fire before the fight. With a sudden burst of light, Lefty brought D back to life, the bayonet shooting out of his body.

D shot up and started to look around the clearing, but with no trace of urgency on his chiseled features.

"It's alright" Lefty informed D, "I got rid of Paladin Freaky-freak."

D started to walk.

Lefty started to yap, "So that's it, no questions, no praise, just dead stony silence?"

"Yes" D deadpanned.

Lefty started to whine, "Come on D, I've been around since frikkin Cthulhu ran roughshod across this planet, you have got to be the worst conversationist I've ever met."

"You have my sympathy."

There were several minutes of silence, very awkward. But D couldn't have cared less. He lived for uncomfortable silences.

"So what about the girl, the one could have taken off her shirt if you hadn't butted in."

"What about the girl," D asked.

"Are you going to try and stop her?"

"No."

"NO! After you got your ass kicked by seven feet of holy terror you're just going to GIVE UP!"

D noted that his Harley Davidson was only ten minutes walk away at human pace, "She has made her choice. I have nothing left to say to her."

"My life with you is going to suck, isn't it D?"

"Yes."

_A place that isn't Mexico_

Anderson was teleported upside down and twelve feet off the ground. He landed on his head and it hurt. Anderson got up and took a look around. He was surrounded by hundreds of French speaking people who pointed and stared at him.

He was in Quebec. And he didn't know how to speak French. Well, this was just a bind.

* * *

And that wraps up this edition. I'm a little worried about the fight, was it alright? If not then review me and tell me how I can improve. Thanks for reading; I love every one of you.

Ta, Master of the Boot


	17. Wamphyri conspiracy

The Big Hellsing

Chapter Seventeen: Wamphyri Conspiracy

Disclaimer: I am not Stephanie Meyer, Kohta Hirano or Brian Lumley. I own nothing and make no profit from this story or this chapter.

Alice Cullen sat next to her husband Jasper. Jasper was not the cheeriest of souls, but his continence had definitely brightened since their little trip to Boca Raton. Now, they were sitting next to each other in a pair of first class seats on their way back to the United States.

Despite their wild sex and tender romance time, something was still off about Jasper. He'd be fine but Alice had no idea how he would react the next time Alucard decided to saunter into their perfect lives. For now though they'd be okay. Perhaps with time, Jasper would be able to look Alucard in the eye without flinching.

Alice received many visions during the course of the day, small ones as well as large ones. She saw the results of a coin toss a continent away as well as the goings on which threatened or aided her family. Alice could see what an old man was doing in Ukraine, but she would only see brief glances of such faraway events. One of the things she was proud of though was that she had known how the war in Afghanistan would go even before the war was declared.

Now she was receiving a vision of Forks, her and Jasper's quiet little hometown. At first the vision started off small, barely even making her eyes distant.

_She saw herself, Edward, Bella and the rest of the Cullens entering the modest church which serviced the religious needs of the people of Forks. As soon as she and her family entered the church, the vision's perspective slowly started to shift. _

Jasper sensed that his wife was a little excited and decided to ask what was up.

Alice briefly diverted her attention from the vision, "I just saw the family and Bella go into the church. I think it might be a wedding rehearsal!" She practically bounced up and down in her seat.

_The vision's perspective started to shift. Gradually the vista was changing to that of a large grassy hill with a road snaking through it. _

Alice's excitement cooled a little bit, what sort of significant event was going to happen on this hill?

_At first all that she heard were the sounds of nature, birds chirping and frogs croaking. Gradually though, these idyllic sounds were replaced by sounds of another sort. _

Jasper watched in apprehension as his wife's excitement started to gradually turn into apprehension.

_The sounds of nature were gradually replaced by the sounds of conflict. First she could hear police sirens and cries to halt. Those were gradually overtaken by the sound of police officers firing their weapons. _

Jasper asked Alice, "Honey, what's wrong?"

_By now Alice was hearing the sounds of machinegun fire and army vehicles grinding off to battle. She heard officers shouting indistinct orders and army grunts dying in droves. And then . . . _

Jasper was worried; Alice was feeling full blown terror now. "Alice, what are you seeing?"

_BOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

Alice shrieked with fright as she jumped practically out of her skin.

_A massive mushroom cloud rose up behind the hill and blotted out the sun. From over the top of the hill came a car. The car was the kind that haunted your dreams and the driver was the stuff of nightmares. _

Alice shook her head and tried to look away from the vision that played itself out in her mind's eye. "No."

_Alucard drove his midnight black 1970 Chevy Nova away from the aftermath of the giant explosion and towards the town of Forks. _

Jasper screamed, "Alice, what's happening!"

_Alucard's car powered down the highway and into the sleepy little town. The inside of his car was dark, the shadows revealed only his bright ruby eyes and pearl white teeth. In the vision he spoke, "What will you do, Alice Cullen?" _

Alice hugged Jasper, "It's him, he's coming, he's coming back to Forks!"

_The Chevy Nova sped down the highway like the personal car of the grim reaper. When Alucard drove past a field of flowers, all of the colorful blooms burst into flame. _

Jasper screamed as he tried to send calming waves towards Alice, "Who! Who is coming to Forks?"

_Alucard drove his car through Forks the way a butcher drives his meat cleaver through a tender shank. Alucard could see the spire of the church in sight and acted accordingly. From his coat he retrieved a massive black handgun with the words written on the barrel, "Jesus Christ is in heaven." _

Alice cried out frantically, "Alucard! Alucard is coming to Forks!"

_Alucard rolled down the window of his car and took aim with the gun known as the Jackal. He targeted his sights on a very expensive looking car equipped with missile proof glass. The bullet from the Jackal tore right through the missile proof glass like no other handgun round was capable of. _

Jasper couldn't even believe what he was hearing. A mere week, just a week, that was how long they had stayed in Boca. And now the demon that violated him was returning.

_Upon hearing the gunshot, Edward and Emmet raced out of the Church to see what the matter was. Alucard wasted no time, he placed the Jackal into the passenger's seat and reached into his coat. _

"Miss, are you alright?" One of the flight attendants tried to inquire after Alice.

_Alucard pulled the firing pin from the German stick grenade with his teeth. With the smoothness of a professional baseball player, Alucard chucked the grenade into the expensive European car. The car exploded into a fiery oblivion as Alucard roared like Tyrannosaurs Rex. _

With the vision over, Alice tried to tell the flight attendant, "No, I'm fine, thank you." If only she could believe what she was saying.

_London, England, Hellsing Manor_

Sir Integra had demanded that Seras bone up on her knowledge of vampires, which at this point had been very scant. Seras had known about the weaknesses of the Nosferatu, but they were not the only menaces hat preyed on human blood.

First, Seras had read about the Unstet. The information of them was rather limited. Basically stating that they glittered in the sun and that it was suicide to face them in direct combat. Alucard had advised her to aim for the knees and the eyes, as anything else short of her Harkonnen cannon would be unlikely to even slow them down.

Moving on, Seras had researched several of the more common vampire breeds as well as some of the obscure ones. Some breeds of vampires were quite well behaved, relatively speaking. Others were vile and disgusting creatures who looked as though they were rejects from a Lovecraft novel.

One such group of vile creatures were the Wamphyri, who Alucard jokingly referred to as Nosferatu-lite. Not physically very powerful by vampire standards, they possessed many of the mystic powers enjoyed by Nosferatu. The Wamphyri all possessed a sixth sense, which was a rudimentary version of the Nosferatu's third eye. In addition to that, they were capable of hypnosis, mind reading, illusion projection and they could even control certain animals.

Despite these powers, they were somewhat limited in the field of preternatural power. They could not teleport, turn into mist or pass through matter. Like the Unstet, their powers were largely mind based.

Seras shuddered as she read on about these creatures. Despite their mystic limitations and modest strength, the Wamphyri could compensate for these disadvantages. Wamphyri flesh was highly metamorphic, meaning that they could alter the shapes of their bodies to a remarkable and inhuman degree.

Seras winced at one illustration of a Wamphyri squeezing himself through a hole in a wall that was a quarter wide as his body was thick. The next illustration showed a before and after picture of a Wamphyri changing its facial features to resemble another person. Seras felt a chill up her spine again, if one of those Wamphyri tried to wear her face, she'd kick their butts.

Turning the page she saw a particularly frightening photograph, another before and after picture. The first photograph resembled an ordinary human being, albeit one with receding gums and hairline. The other photograph was of that same person, but their face was utterly inhuman. It was as though the man had elements of bat and wolf mixed in, the snout was elongated, the ears were pointed, the eyes were red and the teeth looked as bad as Master's.

It was times like these that Seras realized that being Nosferatu wasn't the worst thing in the world. Seras really had never been a big fan of vampire literature to begin with. To her there was nothing appealing about reading about somebody who drank your blood. These Hellsing texts weren't much better. The scientist who wrote these vampire texts must have been a part time horror writer because he was doing a good job of scaring Seras out of her panties.

Somebody put a hand on Seras shoulder and she freaked. Her eyes turned red like somebody turning on a light and her fangs started to jut out. Acting on pure Nosferatu aggression, she struck out at the person who snuck up on her.

Seras tried to stop herself as her body acted on its own, but even with the blow softened, the person's head was still torn off.

Seras eyes turned blue again and she gasped when she saw who she had hit. Alucard's head was hanging onto his body by a thin strip of skin. The frown expression on his face was almost comical; it deserved its own little emoticon. "That was very unfriendly of you, Police Girl."

Seras was frantic, "Oh Master I'm so sorry, please don't kill me!"

Alucard just cleared his throat, "Don't both apologizing, Police Girl. It's good that you have such a strong defensive instinct. Next time though, try and hit your enemies instead of you allies." With that said, Alucard swung his body so that his nearly severed head landed back where it belonged. The flesh healed and Alucard continued, "Anyway, I come bearing double news."

Seras patiently nodded for him to continue.

"Good, as I was saying before you rudely struck me. First item of business, you and those worthless scoundrels Leon and Zohall are going on a mission. Your quarry is Wamphyri, convenient no?"

"What's the second thing you wanted to say Master?"

"Well, the second thing is Police Girl; I'm not coming with you."

Seras was shocked, "No, why not?"

Alucard patted her on the head like she was a dog or a sexual slave, "Me for one Wamphyri is overkill, not to mention boring. Besides, I'm going to a wedding!"

"A wedding? You?"

Alucard rubbed his hands together with enthusiasm, "Indeed Police Girl, a wedding. The girl whose father Zohall prank called and the Unstet glitter boy that you are so enamored with are getting married."

Seras asked him, "When is the wedding?"

"The wedding takes place a few weeks from now but Sir Integra is sending me in early to make sure that it's safe for her and Tony Soprano to meet." Alucard scanned Seras features; he detected a hint of disappointment. He comforted her, "I know you had a crush on that Cullen boy, Police Girl. But worry not, as far as Unstet goes, there are more gorgeous out there and there are many fine dicks to be sampled before you commit yourself."

Seras was partly comforted, partly mortified, "Well, I'm going to get ready for the mission now Master. Have fun in the States."

_England, Shropshire County_

Shropshire country was one of the most rural and sparsely populated parts of England. Due to its relatively low population and small number of large urban centers, it was a favorite place of vampires. Here in Shropshire, a vampire could devour five or six people and be gone well before the arrival of dawn or of anti-vampire forces.

The vampire they were going after had gotten sloppy, his kills were too public and as many criminals do, it fell into a pattern.

The first part of the journey was taken by helicopter while the second part of it was taken by land based vehicles. The creature had taken a base of operations in a farmhouse inhabited by a family of six. If they were lucky, the vampire was only holding the family hostage. If they were unlucky, the vampire had eaten the family. If they were very unlucky, the vampire had turned the family into his slavish thralls.

The regular Hellsing troops had set up a perimeter around the farmhouse in case their quarry decided to flee justice. Two squads of select men were to be led by Leon Kennedy and Seras Victoria. These elite teams of men were the offense, trained to take the fight to the vampire.

Seras led her team of men towards the barn. Leon led his troops towards the farmhouse, Zohall behind him to cover his back.

Seras and her squad faced the barn door. To the casual observer it was just a barn, nothing suspicious about it. Seras however, was aware of the awful wrongness more acutely than any of her human compatriots. This place was wrong; it was as if the sins of the Wamphyri had irrevocably stained this place.

Zohall was feeling thirty one different flavors of wrong. He was feeling the kind of thing that you only read about in Steven King novels. That feeling that something could pounce on you and rip your throat out, but it chooses to save you for a later date.

_Seras took point, moving forward and unlatching the barn door. _

_Leon motioned for one of the men. The armed Hellsing trooper hefted his battering ram and knocked the door down like so much matchwood. _

Seras and the men under her command scanned the barn, seeing nothing but horses and a few pigs. The sight before her confused Seras, she could have sworn that she'd sensed over a dozen vampiric signatures, where were they?

One of the men, a more inexperience mercenary, started to laugh. A single glare from Seras shut him up right away. His laugh however had the effect of stirring some of the farm animals in their sleep.

Seras looked to the laughing soldier, "Take three others and start moving those animals out of the barn."

"What, why?"

"Because if the owner's of this place are still human and alive, then they won't like it if we destroy their livelihood. Simple respect of others property, now go."

Grudgingly the soldier and three of his squad mates jogged towards the sleeping animals. Property respect be damned, he and his team mates didn't know the first thing about animals or moving them. He moved to over to a horse that was stirring lightly in its sleep. He patted the animal on the snout, "You, horsey, wake up."

The horse in question raised its head slowly and opened eyes that should have been chocolate colored but instead were crimson. More of the animals followed suit, opening their blood red eyes and pulling back their lips to expose teeth that were unnaturally sharp.

Zohall was something of a lone wolf by nature; however, he was a quick learner. He'd learned very fast from his friend Leon about things like fighting together and moving in time with each other. In Raccoon City, he and Leon had survived largely because they put their heads together where either one of them individually would have been swamped by the horrors that consumed the city.

The first thing that struck Zohall was not the tasteful furnishings or the nice rug that his shoes were getting dirty. Instead, he noticed the smell. He noticed that horrible smell which never failed to bring him back to the bedlam of Raccoon City. The air was thick with rotting human meat, human meat that had been dead for some time now.

Leon raised his combat shotgun before him as he maneuvered into the dining room. He saw the famer who used to own this farm. The man was dead, from the looks of it; he'd been that way for just over a month now. The maggots had picked away most of the meat but every now and then a bug would scuttle to and from the cadaver. A large fly, only minutes out of its cocoon, buzzed out of the dead farmer's eye socket.

Zohall glowered at the corpse of the long dead innocent. His eyes glowed a forest green which seemed to hint at great focus and great power. Something else caught his attention, somebody upstairs was showering. "Upstairs, move!" He commanded the men with a tone of voice that would have had even Sir Integra stepping into line.

Outside the farmhouse, by the barn, all hell broke loose. The men sent in to remove the animals were the first to die. Iron shod horse hoves smashed their skulls and then the beasts started to tear apart the corpses with their newfound fangs. A tidal wave of turned farm animals charged the Hellsing men all at once. The animals had been infected with the essence of the Wamphyri; the parasites within them were now doubling and redoubling their strength. To match their strength, the animals had also been infected with a hunger for blood.

But with the strengths of Wamphyri, came the weaknesses. The animals were now vulnerable to silver. Silver bullets cut through air and animal flesh alike, searing and burning the livestock as though the bullets were red hot.

Seras stood, unmoving, as she used her fifty caliber rifle to pick off the rampaging animals that threatened to trample and drain her comrades. Something hit Seras, raking its claws against her.

Seras jumped back, taking a good look at what manner of filthy beast which thought itself worthy of attacking her. Once upon a time it must have been a faithful farm dog. At some point however, the resident Wamphyri had taken a piece of the parasite growing within him and implanted it into the hound.

Now the dog was almost twice its original size and sported yellow fangs which would make a lion consider retreat as an option. Just barely Seras could make out movement under the dog's skin; the parasite was branching out, further strengthening and corrupting the animal.

Seras decided to show this beast her true nature. Her eyes turned the same color of red as the lenses of a medieval plague mask. Her skin, already pale, turned a chalk color and her right arm turned into a giant swirling mass of shadow. Issuing her challenge, she hissed at the dog, a sound which resembled some pneumatic machine powering up.

The dog didn't heed her warning, it couldn't. It was now a slave to the Wamphyri that changed it. It tensed up its back legs and sent for Seras throat.

The animal had hardly cleared the ground when Seras shadow arm chopped it in half. Despite its heinous injury, the demon dog tried to drag itself forward and maul Seras. A second strike from the shadow arm beheaded the dog.

The host had suffered true death, but the Wamphyri parasite continued to live. It started to crawl out of the dog's body. It resembled nothing so much as a giant primitive leech. The shadow arm formed a thousand needles which perforated the parasite, destroying it utterly.

Inside the farmhouse, the men heard the sound of gunfire and tumult. One of the men started to run towards the door, but was stopped by an order from Leon. "Hold fast soldier! When we've inspected this house, then we can go and help Seras."

The man protested, he'd been one of the few survivors of the Valentine brother's massacre. "But sir, they might be in trouble."

Leon responded, "They have Seras with them, they're in capable hands." Without further delay, the Hellsing men moved forward. In a manner fitting for soldiers of their caliber, they scoped out the main floor and found nothing.

They didn't bother to remain silent as they moved upstairs; the vampire had probably been alerted of them the moment they stepped into the house. It was night time and the bastard was probably awake.

The sound of the shower remained constant; it was most definitely a trap. Suddenly somebody stepped out from the shadows. The soldiers were on edge, the stranger from the shadows took a half dozen blessed silver bullets.

Zohall didn't hear Leon reprimand the soldiers; he just raced ahead with both weapons drawn. In his right hand was his sword, named gleam. In his left hand was his custom job Desert Eagle handgun. He needed to know now if this was an innocent bystander or if it was a vampire.

What he saw made his blood run cold. It was a boy, seventeen years of age maybe. The young man definitely looked like a vampire. Zohall should have felt righteous satisfaction at seeing the vampire wounded so. Instead he felt pity. The kid was a frail stick of a boy; he hadn't even drunk any blood since his transformation.

Pain distorted the young man's features as the silver bullets boiled and burned his flesh. He clenched something tightly in his hand. Finally he opened his green eyes and looked up. Zohall had a horrible feeling, like the kids face was some sort of distorted mirror. "Hi", said the kid.

Zohall felt pity, but decided to play it cautious, incase this kid, he couldn't think of it as an it anymore, tried to screw him over. "Hi", he responded. Impulsively he asked the kid, "What's your name?"

To which the kid responded, "Suicide. No it's Jake." Jake started to raise his hand, which held a bulb of garlic. "I tried cutting my wrists after he made me do things with my mother and my sisters. It didn't work. Make it quick for them."

Zohall kneeled down, barely even aware of the men behind him, observing him like he was an actor on a soap opera. It was then that Zohall saw the kid's hand, it was bleeding. He was holding a bulb of garlic and it was eating away at his flesh like acid.

Without warning the kid put the garlic bulb into his mouth and swallowed it whole. What Zohall saw next would stay with him for as long as he lived. Jake screamed in ultimate agony, his human scream gradually giving way to an inhuman noise of pain that defied description. He gagged and thrashed, he flopped like a fish out of water.

And as quickly as it started, it was all over. The silver bullets and the garlic bulb were too much; the kid named Jake died. A great torrent of blood erupted from his mouth and swirled around Zohall's shoes. Zohall had stood by totally silent.

Leon yanked Zohall back, "Kid, step back. You could get infected!"

Zohall shook himself out of his stunned silence and raised his weapons once more, "Yeah, sorry Leon. I'll be more careful."

Outside, Seras heard the scream but chose to ignore it. She had a more pressing problem on her hands. The last of the infected animals were being destroyed now, but Seras was not at ease. Something was nearby, something big and deadly.

A side benefit of their metamorphic flesh was that the Wamphyri could remove pieces of themselves and those pieces would become autonomous organisms. These organisms could then be grown and sculpted into numerous slave creatures that were controlled by their master as a Nosferatu controlled his ghouls.

With this ability, they could form a vast variety of servants. The most common were the giant chitin armored warrior forms or the leathery manta flyers. Quickly Seras strapped her rifle to her back. Like her master she could store a small amount of matter in a kind of null space. She chose to store her Harkonnen Cannon in this place.

One of the newer soldiers gasped in shock when he saw Seras reach into her pocket and pull out what was basically a hand held version of a medium sized artillery gun he'd seen once.

It was then that the soldiers felt the earth shaking. One of them foolishly cried out that it was an earthquake. Seras knew better, she ordered the men to run to get behind her and run as fast as they could.

The barn started to shake, wood beams rattled and anything not nailed down fell over and down. That was when something of mammoth proportions erupted from the earth that made up the base of the barn.

Inside the home the rest of the soldiers checked out the second story, the bathroom was to be checked out exclusively by Zohall and Leon. Outside they heard a sound like a giant beast unearthing itself but paid no attention.

Zohall turned to Leon, "I'll get the door, cover me."

To which Leon replied, "Youcover _me_, I'll get the door."

Zohall bickered back, "You've got a better gun than I have, cover me."

"I'll cover you if you bring along a decent weapon next time."

"Leon, I've got the most decent weapons on the damn planet, please just fucking cover me."

Leon submitted, raising his shotgun to any potential vampires who wanted to make a meal of Zohall.

It was a very nice bathroom, not expensive but very nice. It had some nice slate tile floors that must have put a dent in the family's finances. The shower didn't have a curtain; instead there was a frosted glass barrier. Either there were two smaller shapes in the shower or there was one large person.

Steam started to pour out of the door when the frosted glass barrier was pulled back, revealing the occupants of the showers. Both men were greeted by the stuff of wet dreams. Two girls who looked like they were sisters, aged approximately fourteen and seventeen, utterly and completely naked. The girls looked at Zohall and Leon with the most innocent doe eyed expressions.

Neither Leon nor Zohall felt any kind of arousal by this strange sight. There was a time and a place for that sort of thing; it wasn't here with a hungry vampire running around.

Leon recognized the girls from the mission report, just as Zohall had recognized the farmer's son but failed to remember his name.

The first girl said, "Look Anita, some strangers have walked in on us bathing."

Anita, the younger one responded with a dreamy voice, "Could one of you big handsome boys hand us a towel."

Zohall spoke in a tone that was quiet and harsh, "Please don't try that porno movie dialogue on either of us, it's sickening. Where is the vampire, where is the one that killed your father."

Anita's sister was first, "We killed father, tell them Jocelyn."

Jocelyn filled the boys in, "Simon made us, we couldn't help ourselves. He opened his skin and there was something under it." Her ditzy seductive voice didn't change as she explained the awful truth.

Leon told the girls in a neutral tone, "If you help us find and kill this Simon, then we won't have to kill you both."

The girls looked at each other and gave both a coy giggle. Whatever the girls had been like before their transformation, it was gone now. Anita and Jocelyn were now nothing more than the pawns of a Wamphyri named Simon. He'd given their brother a modicum of free will because Jake's foolish suicide attempts had given Simon a chuckle.

Suddenly the coy giggles turned into bestial snarls. Both of their pretty faces changed, becoming the true faces of Wamphyri. Their teeth turned into fangs, their eyes went red, they developed small snouts and their ears grew pointed and bat like.

The first of them charged, swatting the gun out of Leon's hands. She swung a clawed hand, trying to take off Leon's head. Leon ducked under the blow and pounced to the side of the girl, a remarkable feet given the cramped nature of the bathroom and the hallway.

The second sister tried to also attack Leon was stopped by when Gleam cut off her head, spraying the bathroom mirror with blood.

The one that had tried to attack Leon, Anita, took a silver coated knife right to the heart. She went down with a loud shriek, the knife sizzling in her heart.

Jocelyn was dead; beheading was one of the most reliable ways of killing Wamphyri. Anita was not dead; while silver burned the creature that she had been made into, it might take hours for the silver to build up enough to kill her.

Wamphyri were not like Nosferatu, they didn't leave behind cute little heaps of ash that you could just sweep up with broom. When you finished killing a Wamphyri, you were left with a lot of blood on the floor and the face of a human being. Once you killed them, their features always reverted back to their human form.

Anita was unconscious but not completely silent. She lay on the floor, nude and as helpless as a newborn, weeping silently. What she endured, what her family endured, Zohall and Leon could only guess at. Surely becoming a ghoul would be preferable to this, as a ghoul you wouldn't be aware of the atrocities you were forced to commit.

Leon raised his sidearm and cocked the weapon. He tried to reassure himself, telling himself that this was no different than putting down a zombie. Zombies didn't talk, they couldn't reason, they didn't have souls or minds. Zombies weren't beautiful and they didn't weep.

One bullet, Anita was with her family now.

The massive Wamphyri slave creature rose out of the earth, utterly demolishing the barn in the process. A few of the fleeing soldiers fired their weapons at it. It didn't feel any pain; it wasn't intelligent enough for that. Besides, the anti-personnel weapons of the soldiers would have been pinpricks to such a towering monster.

The giant warrior beast was huge, equal in size to the two story farmhouse. The creature's body was covered in most places by thick chitin armor the color of wet cement. Where there was no armor the creature's gooey flesh pulsated in time with the beat of thirty primitive hearts. A thousand proto eyes twinkled like a blanket of evil stars.

The creature's main body was vaguely crab shaped. Multiple limps extended from the body, each one a different shape. Some ended in hand like appendages, others terminated in mantis like pincers and yet others were simply long unarmored tentacles.

A limb shot out, ending in a grasping hand that looked like a medieval gauntlet. Fast as the limb moved, it was no challenge for Seras to lop it off with her shadow arm.

Seras took a step forward, raising her cannon to firing position. When all of the sudden the hand she sliced off crawled up behind her and grabbed her. The disembodied hand began to squeeze hard enough to crush rock.

The only reason that Seras fleshy and human like body wasn't instantly splattered was that she was applying her massive strength in counteraction to her attacker. She cursed herself for underestimating this creature and its incredible ability to survive dismemberment. The Wamphyri controlling this thing must be laughing his head off.

A lobster like pincer grabbed both Seras and the giant hand. It was pulling her towards its gaping maw, lined with thousands of needle like teeth. If this overgrown heap of stewed flesh thought that it could make a snack of the fledgling of Alucard, then it had a lesson to learn.

Focusing her strength and her rage like a laser, Seras threw her limbs outward. The force of her power tore apart the giant hand and broke the pincer in two. She was through playing with this thing.

To soften it up she fired an armor piercing shell in its center. The depleted uranium round tore right through the giant abomination, exposing its primitive and temporary organs.

Seras dropped the spent artillery round and went for another one. Six more limbs reached out for her. They didn't get in five meters of her, barely perceptible a shield of darkness protected her from the groping limbs. The second shell was an incendiary shell. When it came to Wamphyri and their spawn, fire was the best way to deal with them. Every scrap of flesh and every drop of blood they had was capable of infecting humans and animals alike with the Wamphyri parasite.

So, this thing was going to get a Viking funeral. The shell flew into the core of the warrior when it exploded. It hadn't made a sound when Seras chopped off its hand or when the Hellsing men shot it in its exposed flesh, but it screamed as the incendiary shell burned it from the inside out in an instant.

A single bright flash and then all that was left was the incinerated shell armor of the former monster. Seras looked down on her handiwork before the sound of a breaking window caught her attention.

Inside the farmhouse, the horror wasn't over yet, not for Leon and Zohall. They had just killed the two daughters of the family. The other soldiers had found the mother of the family, nude just like her daughters were.

The wife of the farmer had told the soldiers "Kill me now before he takes full control of me again." She'd been holding a kitchen knife and was starting to get into fighting stance. So the soldiers had obliged her.

One of them sprayed her with the flame thrower and then ordered his comrades not to shot her. "Just let her burn, just like Alucard burned my wife and kids." The man's loss was still fresh in his mind, hardly a week since vampires had claimed his family. The Unstet had tried to turn his wife and drained his twin boys. Alucard appeared in the nick of time and used his blue fire to destroy everything the vampire had tainted.

Suddenly, Leon and Zohall's attention was caught by the sound of breaking glass. They saw a human shaped figure drop past the second story window and land on the front lawn of the house. The two of them sprinted off after their quarry like jackrabbits.

As they left, the flame thrower wielding soldier heard a sound, tiny feet walking. There in the hallway was the remaining member of the family of six. A girl who looked to be about five years old walked towards him with a butcher's blade, eyes red. She looked at him once before her features changed into demonic set and charged at him.

A simple martial arts kick to the chin stopped the child dead in her tracks. He placed his boot on her chest to stop her from retrieving her weapon. The child snarled and tried to claw him but her strength was hardly above normal, she must have been turned only recently. Without emotion, the soldier drew his handgun and blasted the little girl's brains all over the floor.

Zohall and Leon burst through the front door to spot their escaping quarry. The bastard was surrounded by a thick fog and running away at almost inhuman speed. It didn't matter where he ran he's hit the perimeter guards very soon.

The Wamphyri was emitting mist from his pores to hide his movements. Combine the mist with the distance he was at, only the world's finest marksmen could have hit him. "Leon, let me get this guy." The man from Raccoon city raised his desert eagle.

Leon had put away his shotgun and finished unloading his semi-automatic rifle, "All yours, kid."

Zohall took aim; the green light in his eyes seemed to grow in intensity.

BLAM!

The Wamphyri went down with a silver bullet in his spine.

The two men were barely upon the creature when Seras Victoria landed in front of it. Fifty caliber rifle clutched in her ordinary hand, shadow arm waving this way and that like a flag, she bore an expression akin to that of an angry mother.

The Wamphyri didn't make a noise; his demonic face just seemed to slip away in the face of fear. The shadow arm reached out in the shape of a pair of tongs, picking up the downed vampire like a piece of junk. Two more extensions of the arm extended and began to slice open the Wamphyri's chest. Then, the two cutting blades parted the creature's ribcage, exposing the organs and the parasite.

The extraterrestrial parasite which gave the Wamphyri their power was an ugly thing. It looked like an olive-grey flatworm, eyeless and wrapped around the heart and spine. It was quaking and quivering as though it wanted to leave its host, but Seras would never allow that.

From Seras belt, three incendiary grenades floated and placed themselves in the Wamphyri's chest cavity. With three clicking noise the pins all fell away and the shadow arm closed up the chest cavity.

The Wamphyri incoherently babbled and pleaded, to no avail. The three grenades exploded regardless.

All that was left was an incinerated head and some scorched shoes. Leon and Zohall had turned away from the blast to save their eyes from seeing the bight light.

Seras looked tired, no, exhausted. Her shadow arm had transformed back into an ordinary arm and her eyes were back to that pretty blue color. Her face wore a look of utter defeat. Her sensitive hearing could detect the sound of the flame thrower men immolating the bodies. Soon there would be no trace of anything here. The Hellsing people would burn everything down and blame it on a gas leak.

All she wanted to do now was go home and beg God to have mercy on her soul. She looked at Leon and Zohall with forlorn expressions, "Let's go home."

* * *

A long distance away from this scene stood Simon Ferenczy. The vampire killed by the Hellsing organization was nothing more than his lieutenant, a more evolved version of the thralls that he'd made from the family in the farmhouse.

He'd told his lieutenant that he'd be going hunting and to watch over their temporary base of operations. Simon had even gone so far as to cede over temporary control of the warrior beast and the thralls to his second in command.

He wasn't really hunting, he was waiting for the Hellsing family and their hunters to show up. He'd given his underling a massive amount of free will. The fool had squandered Simon's gift and chose instead to paint the country side red with blood. In this world, a vampire had to be low key and subtle if he expected to survive long. Seemingly the sole exception this rule had been Dracula.

Simon turned on his heel and started to walk right past the Hellsing perimeter as if he were invisible. He wasn't actually invisible; this was just his special talent. As a human he'd been able to make himself inconspicuous to the point that he could just walk into a busy board meeting or a top secret government conference and nobody would notice him. His extraordinary talent had come in handy during his human career as a bank robber and industrial spy.

At the age of forty five, Simon had been transformed into Wamphyri on the eve of the First World War. True Wamphyri, not one of the slaving thralls or lieutenants. From that moment on he'd adopted the name Ferenczy and his power had grown.

Thirty years ago he'd used his power to waltz into the Volturi's castle and take whatever he wanted. They still hadn't found him despite the prowess of their so called tracker Dmitri.

It was a deadly useful power to have, especially if there were people trying to kill you. Even if he appeared on a security monitor, the security guards would simply ignore him. But against somebody like Alucard, his powers would be next to useless.

Fortunately, Alucard wasn't here, just his chesty fledgling. She was powerful, that much was clear, but she was no Alucard.

Simon strolled further away from all the danger, heading for a clearing where a flyer was waiting to pick him up. At that moment though, his cell phone vibrated. It seemed that he had an incoming text message.

The message read, "We are in need of your services. You know where to meet us." The author of the text message was signed as, "MJR-NZI."

It almost made Simon grin ear to ear. The boys at Millennium had been some of his best customers. It was good to know that somebody had survived the Volturi's wrath to require his services once again.

Things were changing, Simon Ferenczy could feel it. As the flyer carried him away, Simon Ferenczy realized that he'd neglected to put on matching shoes today.

* * *

I'd like to clarify that the Wamphyri are not my creations. They are from Brian Lumley's Necroscope series. A series that I highly recommend. Next chapter we will deal with Albert Wesker and find out that he's working for somebody other than the Volturi. Review, request, and even flame if you want to. I love you all.

Ta

Master of the Boot


	18. Wesker's Day out

The Big Hellsing: Chapter Eighteen

Wesker's day out

Disclaimer: This is a nonprofit endeavor and I own none of these characters.

Albert Wesker was many things. He was a brilliant scientist, a ruthless sadist, a skilled martial artist, an accurate marksman and an accomplished musician. But now he was sleepy. Thanks to the virus he injected himself with all those years ago; he could go for far longer without food, water, oxygen or sleep than was possible for a human being. However he still needed to sleep, something that was very difficult here in the home of the Volturi.

Due to the nature of their species, the Volturi did not sleep. A byproduct of this phenomenon meant that they had little sympathy for those who did need to sleep. Tonight, all that Wesker wanted was a simple six uninterrupted hours of sleep.

Wesker walked into his bedroom and locked the door. The room was small and sparsely furnished. Wesker had no need for giant rooms or garish decorations; all he needed was a comfortable bed and a place to put his clothes.

First order of business for the former Umbrella employee took off the white lab coat which he always wore when he was working. Following suite came the black dress coat, black dress shirt and black dress pants. Down to his underwear, Wesker slipped on a white silk nightshirt and a blue cotton nightcap. Finally, the dark glasses that he used to conceal his yellow and red eyes with slit like pupils were placed on the nightstand.

Without ceremony Wesker lay down on his bed and pulled the expensive cotton covers over himself. He was beginning to enter dreamland when he heard a knock on his door.

Wesker grunted to himself, "Who is it?"

"It's Heidi, open this door."

Wesker pulled the blue nightcap from over his eyes, "What do you want?"

Heidi replied, "I want to ask your opinion on a dress."

Wesker brushed off Heidi, "It's hideous, go away."

Outraged by Wesker's brusque dismissal, Heidi opened Wesker's door and barged in, "A worthless human like yourself isn't worthy to look on me without being fed on. Either you tell me what you think of this dress or I will end your miserable existence."

Wesker's face remained neutral. Heidi was beautiful in that Unstet way, but he was not a mindless peer pressure driven teenager. Beauty such as hers hardly made an impact on him. To Wesker, true beauty was in a vampire ripping a victim's throat out. True beauty was in watching a human being be transformed into a zombie. True beauty was a Tyrant's grinning monstrous visage. Heidi was nothing but a whore and deserved nothing more than a whore's due.

Wesker halfheartedly looked over Heidi's skin tight black dress that accentuated all her curves perfectly. "You look like a something that will lure many humans to their deaths."

Heidi flashed her perfect teeth and curtsied in a manner that showed off some more cleavage.

Slut. Wesker didn't say a word. For him, Heidi couldn't leave the room soon enough. When his latest plans came to fruition, Heidi would be nothing but his loyal and mindless slave.

Wesker slipped once more into his comfy covers when he heard another knock on the door. Teeth gritting, Wesker growled, "Who is it?"

"It's Felix."

"Be quick about it Felix, I'm in no mood for talk."

The vampire Felix opened the door enough to fit his head through, "The remote control for the television in the common room is missing. Do you know where it is?"

Wesker pulled the nightcap over his eyes and rolled over, "Try asking Dmitri."

When Felix was gone, Wesker was ever so glad. He had to get up tomorrow at six in the morning, which wasn't that far away. He was looking forward to dreaming about his favorite sexual fantasy when somebody else knocked on his door.

Wesker's voice was as hard as a set of brass knuckles, "Whoever you are, if you Aren't Aro, Caius or Marcus I'm going to blow your head off." Wesker began to reach for the combat shotgun he always slept with.

"It's Jane." Jane, one of the damnable witch twins, one of the Volturi's trump cards. She and her brother Alec physically resembled eight year olds but they were far older than that. Jane possessed the power to make a person feel as much pain as their nerves were capable of feeling. Alec's power was diametrical to his sister's, he had the ability to completely deprive a person of sensation, effectively rendering them blind, deaf, numb and unable to smell.

Wesker had plans for the twins; the fate in store for them was either death or slavery. For now though, the twins remained unaware of Wesker's machinations. Politely he bid them to enter his room.

The two of them glided Wesker's room like a pair of black robed androgynous angels. Jane had her pretty little face pouting while Alec clutched an X-box controller while trying to out pout his sister. Jane started, "Alec wants me to play Horde but I don't want to."

Alec yelled at his sister, "I want you to play Horde with me; I want to get all the achievements."

To Wesker, the twins might have as well been speaking Klingon because he had no idea who or what the hell this Horde thing was. Before the twins could fight some more, Wesker settled the matter, "Jane, just play with your brother for fifteen minutes. Alec, if your sister doesn't want to play then don't make her."

Neither one of the twins was happy with Wesker's decision but they went along with it because Wesker threatened to take up the matter with Caius, who was far less tolerant of the twin's antics than Aro was.

Eventually the twins left and Wesker was left all alone, completely peaceful. Wesker sighed, grateful that the vampires had not turned on the lights in his room. The silk nightshirt was cool and the nightcap was warm, Wesker could finally rest.

That was when he started to feel it. Wesker was woken up by the most curious and frightening of sensations. He felt as if a large worm were wrapped around his brain and was tapping its many legs all across his cortex. Soon, a telepathic voice made itself heard in Wesker's mind.

_Status report, ally designation Wesker._

"_I've been working on a distribution method that is to your specifications but I've been forced to put my work on hiatus." _

More tingling in his brain followed.

_Unacceptable, you will restart your work immediately. The schedule will be observed._

"_I simply don't have the time. I have duties to the Volturi and if I don't fulfill them, they will become suspicious. If they become suspicious then they will terminate me and you will lose your information source on vampires."_

_Your argument is logical but your logic is bent towards your own benefit. It is not impossible to perform your duties to the Volturi as well as to us. The Schedule will be observed. _

Wesker looked to and fro, nervous that he was being observed. "_Is there anything else you would like to know?_"

The voice in his head waited for a moment.

_What is the status of your research on vampire creature designation Alucard?"_

"_That has been difficult, more difficult even than designing the distribution system. The Volturi have an entire archives dedicated to Alucard but they allow no one to see it except for a few trusted occultists and scientists. I have not gained their trust enough to be privy to those archives." _

_Gain their trust, or hack their archives. It does not matter to us. All that matters to us is that the schedule is observed and Renewal takes place. Vampire creature designation Alucard is an impediment to renewal, impediments will be removed._

And that was it; they had learned all that they needed to know. Suddenly, Albert Wesker didn't feel sleepy anymore.

A stiff knocking on the door interrupted Albert Wesker's musings. "Identify yourself."

The energetic, enthusiastic voice of Aro rang through the door like the toll of a bell, "Open the door Wesker, it's Aro."

Wesker pulled the covers off of himself and yanked his blue nightcap off. His enhanced eyes could see perfectly in the dim light and had no trouble in locating his preferred pair of sunglasses.

Wesker opened the door to reveal the eager face of the eager Volturi leader. Wesker took a moment to observe Aro's appearance, translucent skin like an onion, burgundy eyes that seemed clouded over and hair that was eerily reminiscent of Alucard's hair. So no, nothing was out of the ordinary.

"What is it you desire, Lord Aro?"

Aro grinned a little wider, "Well, it is awfully courteous of you to ask. I was just heading down to the Disco room. Caius won't dance with me and Heidi is away, so I was wondering if you would be my dance partner?"

Wesker was shocked by Aro's request but not necessarily surprised. For the last month or so, Aro had been spending a great deal of time with Albert Wesker, watching him eat lunch, watching him perform experiments. Wesker had no idea what was going through Aro's head. "Well, yes I will be your dance partner. But only for half an hour, I need to sleep."

Aro raised his hands, "A half hour is fine, my friend. Meet me in the Disco room." And then Aro glided away.

Wesker suspected that his blood must have smelled overtly delectable to Aro, so he decided to take the combat shotgun with him.

_The Pentagon, United States of America_

"This is the man that I have on my mind today." The words were barked out by a five star general of the United States Army.

The general was addressing three other men. The first fellow was a nondescript CIA man of middle years and a cool expression. He had very little patience for the General's enthusiasm and idealism. His other two companions seemed to share similar sentiments.

The General held up a black and white photograph of a fat smiling man in the uniform of the _Waffen SS_. "This is _Sturmbannfuhrer _Montana Max. Otherwise translated as Major Max." The General looked down on the picture before placing it on his desk, "Now I can tell a man's character by looking at him. This guy's a nut. I mean, he's got more than one screw loose, that's easy to tell. What I want to know gentlemen, is why has Millennium not been buried yet?"

The CIA man sighed, "I'm sure that there is a point to all of this, General Colt."

General Colt looked the high ranking CIA official in the eye, "Why yes I do Stanford. Why don't you tell these gentlemen here what you told me?"

For a moment Stanford looked apprehensive. He looked to the other men, "Recent intelligence from our inside man in the Vatican indicate that remnants of the Letztes Battalion have begun to resurface."

The other men tried not to look shocked at the news.

General Colt barked at the men arrayed before him, "What I want to know, is why the hell didn't we put down these ghouls in forty-five!"

Edgar McCarthy, leader of the FBI and former resident of Area 51 took his turn, "At the war's end the OSS had believed that Hellsing had put an end to Special Order 666. We had no reason to doubt their word."

The General started to yell at McCarthy, "God dammit, stop making up excuses! We're the Americans; people should be asking us if the bad guys are dead, not the other way around."

Tom Manning, leader of the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense interjected, "With Hellboy gone it's going to be far harder to deal with the Letztes Battalion."

"For the last time, will you forget about Hellboy! He's gone and he's not coming back, not that we ever needed him."

Stanford adjusted his glasses a moment, "I'm prepared to debate that statement, General."

General Colt expressed his distaste, "Ah, can it Stanford. We don't need a trump card like the Vatican or even Hellsing does." He pointed around the room, an energetically animated figure in a room full of semi-statues, "We've got guns, bombs, flame throwers, tanks and helicopters. I'd like any one of you to name me a vampire that can take an IMB head on and win."

McCarthy piped up, "Alucard could. Nothing in the United States arsenal can match his destructive potential, except maybe one of our more powerful nuclear warheads."

Colt sat down in his chair, "You call yourselves leaders of men, I say otherwise! We have all the explosives and James Bond tools to blast every vampire and werewolf and mutant and freak on the planet out of existence! What we need, gentlemen, is fighting spirit. We need the will to win."

General Colt was the leader of the United States joint paranormal defense initiative. The CIA, the FBI, the BPRD and the Longdarque Corps had all been fighting out of the ordinary threats to the United States for decades, but it was only recently that the various organizations had begun to work together towards their common goal. If General Colt was the official leader of the group, then Stanford was the unofficial second in command. Part of his job was to act as counterbalance to the zealous and patriotic General.

He raised his hands in a gesture for Colt to simmer down, "You've made your point General, what you recommend our course of action be?"

Colt turned his bright blue eyes to the CIA director, "Well, the first thing we should do is get those damn satellite photos in here. Get the satellite photos!" He barked the command at one of the guards in the room. He continued with his tirade, "The second order of business is that we find these lunatics where they sleep burn them to cinders!"

The General pointed to Stanford, "Round up every spook you can get a hold of and have them _sniff_ out Millennium if they have to."

Next in line was McCarthy of the Federal Bureau of Investigations, "You, get the names and the numbers of anyone or anything that might or is helping these monsters."

He pointed to Manning, "Round up all your physics, mystics and freak shows. Don't stop until you've got some solid leads. All of you get your anti-vampire men mobilized and ready at a moment's notice. I want these men alert and prepared around the clock, eight days a week and thirty hours a day. Hell, I want these guys ready to fight Alucard before the week is out."

"As for myself, I have my own ways of finding information. I have good old army boys on call who can find information and beat it out of people." The General turned to the guard that had recently returned, "Where are those satellite photographs?"

The guard looked to the General with deference, "I can't find them sir."

"You can't what?"

"I can't find them." The guard repeated.

Suddenly Colt's manner grew as cold and as dangerous as that of the arctic winds, "Hey" he said to the now frightened guard, "Did you lose _my_ satellite photographs?"

_Volterra, Italy, Volturi stronghold_

"It would seem to me," said Aro, "that either Millennium has risen from its grave or that someone is utilizing Millennium's secret facilities."

Caius, who rarely ever agreed with his brother, broke pattern, "I concur with Aro. These satellite photos paint a clear picture. Power has returned to these facilities in Brazil and whoever is using them has not yet had a chance to disguise this."

Caius, Marcus, Aro and Wesker all poured over the satellite photos stolen from the United States government. Also with them in the room were Jane, Alec and Furio. Jane and Alec appeared excited by the news; they had enjoyed butchering Millennium's garbage vampires back in ninety nine. Furio was completely impassive but seemed to understand.

In the eye blink of time that Furio had been with the Volturi, he had rapidly become their deadliest fighter, humiliating and terrorizing those who were instructed to humiliate and terrorize him. A group of five overconfident fighters had been instructed to spar with Furio. When they were done, they all looked as if they'd come out of a blender.

Furio had been briefed on the nature and goals of the Letztes Battalion; he knew what they had been capable of. If they should ever meet, Furio would pummel them into paste, grind the paste into dust and then beat the dust into nothingness.

Wesker was feeling like shit. What he thought would be a half hour's worth of dancing turned into two hours of dancing. If that wasn't bad enough, Aro forced him to play the bagpipes for him. Wesker loved to play the bagpipes but had been much too tired to enjoy playing them for three hours.

What Wesker was hoping to be a nice six hour sleep turned into zero hours when Caius came in with news that Millennium was resurfacing. Under his sunglasses, Wesker's eyes were blurry and bloodshot from lack of sleep. At this point he'd like nothing better than to fire a shotgun into Aro's smiling face at point blank range.

Marcus remained impassive, despite his burst of life back during movie night all those weeks ago, he'd returned to his normal zombie like state.

"What to do, what to do?" Aro spoke the words in a sing song voice.

Caius's hard voice rang out, "It's very simple. We make sure that both the Vatican and Hellsing are aware of the impeding threat, one way or another. When they have information, so will we, but we will react with a hundred times the readiness."

Aro smiled at his brother, "And what of the Americans?"

Caius dismissed them with a wave of his hand, "They're of no consequence, besides they are already aware of this unfortunate turn of events. Even the Vatican is of little concern. Hellsing is our true enemy."

Aro pondered for a moment before placing a suggestion, "I believe that I know what must be done." He waited for someone to ask him what his brilliant idea was.

Caius nodded politely, "Please, tell us what you have in mind."

"Very well then. You, Caius, suggested that we let the human vampire hunters know of Millennium's resurgence. No?"

"That is correct, Aro."

Aro chuckled, "Good, as I was saying. I'm betting that you wanted to alert these humans so that we may take advantage of their intelligence just as we have done with the Americans. No?"

Caius was starting to lose patience, "Good, that's quite nice. I say this: instead of us going after these Germanic trash, let their enemies draw first blood. Let them all fight each other as the enemies they are. Let their infighting sap their strength and break their weapons. Are you all following me so far?"

Caius growled, "Get to the point."

"Patience Caius, you've lived for three thousand years and still you do not fully understand patience. Once the various factions have weakened each other sufficiently, we will swoop in and crush the remains. In the chaos of battle, Integra Hellsing will likely play the role of the courageous field commander."

Wesker, despite his mind being fogged by sleep deprivation put his own conclusions into the discussion, "That's seems a logical conclusion. It matches with the pattern of her previous roles in various vampire engagements."

Aro patted Wesker on the shoulder, "Ah Wesker, you're such a darling dandy. To finish my otherwise brilliant plan, we will kidnap Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing and have her seal Alucard just as her father did. Then, we will kill her and Alucard will be gone from this world forever."

Caius looked at his younger brother dead on, "You do realize the risks behind a plan such as that. In the event of failure, it will mean the end of us all."

Aro looked at his brother with unusual seriousness, "You do realize, brother that nothing in life is gained without risk? You have forgotten what it means to live; you don't remember the thrill of risk. As you yourself said, Hellsing is our enemy. All the rest are just distractions."

"I just want to make sure that you know what the risks are." Caius then looked to Furio, "Furio, what say you? Does lord Aro have a sound plan?"

Furio lowered his head for a moment, his mind entering a state of deep thought. After a number of seconds had passed, Furio gave his verdict, "Fuck Hellsing. We bury Alucard. We kill-a these fucking _Tedeschi_."

Caius had to admit that Furio's logic was impeccable. "Marcus, do you object to this course of action." Naturally, Marcus just shrugged and shook his head. "It's settled then. We kick our enemies when they are at their weakest. Wesker!"

Caius yelled at the spoke gruffly to the resident evil genius, who had begun to dose off. Wesker jumped back to wakefulness, "Yes Lord Caius."

"See to it that Hellsing is made aware of these developments. Forge evidence for the benefit of the Vatican but do not reveal our hand. Ours should be like the hands of the magician; the audience should only see what we want them to."

Wesker nodded, "It will be done my lord."

Caius addressed the twins and Furio, "The rest of you, get back to your previous duties. Furio, you should be training. Have Dmitri assign you some sparing partners."

This made the twins smile while Furio kept his cool expression. Jane and Alec were assigned to help with cleaning out some of the bolder vampire covens. And Furio, he was going to follow his orders.

* * *

Thank you all for reviewing and reading my humble story. To those of you who have story alerts, please review. But regardless, I had fun writing this chapter, so I'm happy. Until next time my friends. And don't forget, I take requests, so if you want something to happen or if you want an OC of your included in the madness, we'll talk. Okay? Good night folks.

Ta

Master of the Boot


	19. Vampirovics and Werewolves

The Big Hellsing: Chapter Nineteen

Vampirovics and Werewolves

Disclaimer: Can anybody tell me why there isn't a fandom on this website for Vampire Chronicles? Anybody? By the way, I own jack squat.

_Unknown distance outside of Rio, 1999_

_Dok was standing outside of the great zeppelin. The mammoth flying machine was epic in its proportions; the gondola alone was the size of Buckingham Palace. Standing next to this monster made Dok realize how an ant feels next to an elephant. _

_Perhaps it was these feelings of smallness that prompted Dok to start thinking about his time as Millennium's leading researcher. It might have also been that this was one of the few moments that he did not spend either toiling without rest or in the Major's company. _

_Doktor Avondale Naypeer had done many things in the last five decades that he could hardly believe that he'd done. He'd tortured men to their deaths, created monstrosities, built an army of vampires and studied the thing that wore Mina Harker's face. And all of it was done for the Major. _

_Morally and emotionally he was numb; love for the Major was the only emotion that he felt anymore. Even the joy of scientific discovery was long forgotten. So, why then? What was it that compelled him to love the fat little war loving officer when all other emotions were buried and cold?_

_He didn't have time to answer that question because the Major had snuck up on him. "Dok, we have a schedule to keep. It would be sad if the destruction of London came late."_

"_Jawol, Herr Major." Dok started to ascend the red carpeted stairs of the Deus ex Machina with the Major and the Captain. Behind them, a thousand vampire soldiers were already boarding the leviathan dirigible. That was when everything started to go wrong. _

_KERBLAM!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_An AGM-130 bunker busting rocket with a Thermobaric warhead struck the nose of the zeppelin. The pyrotechnics were every bit as spectacular as the noise generated. The concussive force of the bomb collapsed the entire front section of the zeppelin, bursting the gas bags like balloons and incinerating everything inside of the airship. A whole section of the room caved in, crushing the smaller zepplins. Thankfully it was nighttime. _

_Fire ate up the inside of the main zeppelin; the outer shell of the craft remained intact, sagging with most of the internal supports burned through. Some of the vampire soldiers threw themselves outside of the burning craft but failed to escape the scorching touch of fire. They all fell to the ground like embers thrown off of a torch, screaming the entire way down. _

_Dok and the Major were shielded from the explosion by the Captain, who threw his broad, indestructible body in the path of the fire. The flames scorched the Captain's great coat but his skin showed no fire damage._

_The Captain, silent right hand man of the Major, looked up and saw his enemies. _

_At the far end of the cavernous hangar there were two figures clad in black cloaks and hoods. The two figures were standing next to what must have been the launcher for the powerful missile. The explosion had damaged many of the lights in the hangar, plunging it into darkness, but the Captain had no problem recognizing the figures. _

_He also didn't have any problems recognizing the other thirty or so cloaked figures that swooped in like a pack of wraiths. It was the Volturi. _

_The Major had to give the Volturi credit. They had managed not only to bypass the base's security system and kill the guards, but they were now using the cutting edge of technology to ground his fleet of zeppelins. And all this time he had thought of them as nothing but a bunch of decrepit and rigid old codgers. It just went to show that people can surprise you even if they are three thousand years old. _

_The FREAKs, disoriented and shocked by the explosion, almost didn't see the first of the wooden stakes and blessed daggers that ended their very brief immortal unlives. _

_The first line was able to raise their weapons before they were reduced to dust._

_The second line got off a few ineffective shots before losing their heads. _

_After that, all hell broke loose. _

_The Volturi hit the Nazi lines like a tidal wave. The Nazis were outclassed in both strength and speed. The so called Super FREAKs were all dead except for Rip Van Winkle. Luke Valentine, fast beyond measure, was food decomposing in the gut of Alucard's hellhound. Zorin Blitz: she acted prematurely and made the mistake of underestimating Seras Victoria. _

_Rip Van Winkle was aboard the HMS Eagle, she would be no help to them now. _

_With their initial strike complete, the Volturi doubled back, reuniting and going into formation with the fluid ease of a school of fish. Their responses were rapid, never giving the artificial vampires an inch of breathing room. _

_From out of nowhere, a mist began to form. The mist spread through the ranks of the soldiers and made them as limp as jelly. In droves they fell, complexly deprived of all sensory stimuli. _

_Realizing the serious nature of the mist, the soldiers jumped back, both to escape the mist and to allow them a chance to properly aim their weapons. _

_Alec smiled at the whole mess. Here was the afterbirth of Hitler's forgettable Reich, trying to be see the light of day. They were nothing but babies compared to the Volturi, who had spent millennia sharpening their minds and powers against vampires both mighty and minor. Now, the fetal Nazi remnant was going to receive an abortion. He and his twin sister Jane would be the silver tipped coat hanger that would stab this vampire fetus in the heart. _

_Not far from him, flanked by three of the Volturi's best was his beloved sister. She was using her talent like an expert marksman. FREAKs would sail through the air or seek cover when Jane's evil gaze would fall upon them. A millisecond under the witch child's sinister eye was enough to have the soldiers twitching like animals stunned with electricity. _

_Jane's gift left the soldiers temporarily helpless with pain. The few seconds that they spend writhing was always enough to have the Waffen SS troops fall prey to either Alec's mist or to the guard's weapons. Sometimes one of the Volturi would feel like a bit of sport and twist the heads off of their enemies instead of staking them or stabbing them. _

_One of the guards did this and paid for his arrogance. As he pulled the head from a downed Millennium soldier, a hail of concentrated gunfire tore him to shreds. _

_The soldier's victory was short lived. Jane gave each of them a prolonged burst from her pain causing stare. Ah yes, this was turning out to be fun. Aro and Caius promised Alec and Jane the chance to personally take care of the corrupt Brazilian officials that had sided with Millennium, so the twins were doubly excited. _

_The Major looked at the fiasco with mild disappointment. He was a man of his word, what would Integra Hellsing think of him when London wasn't destroyed in three days?_

_A band of the more physically able FREAKs had gathered around the Major. All of them were the most loyal of loyals; they would terminate their unnatural existences at the smallest gesture from the Major. These men had charged undaunted into hails of allied machinegun fire, run under artillery fire as thick as rain, fought in the frozen hell of Stalingrad and committed some of the worst atrocities ever perpetuated by the Third Reich. All of them were veterans of the Second World War; they were there from the start. _

_These men had fear stamped right out of them, but even they could not help but be anxious at the sight of the detached efficiency of the Volturi killing machine. They were afraid, afraid that they would not be able to protect their master, their Fuhror, the Major. _

_The Master looked to his guards, the smile returning to his face, "Let us be gone, these nothings are bad for my health. Let us stop by the mess hall, I am hungry." _

_So amidst the screams of the dying and the victorious, the Major and his entourage began to make their way to the nearest exit. _

_Dok was feeling fear, the emotion was like a tapeworm eating at his insides. He was aware of how perilously close death was to taking him and the Major. Yet, all the Major could think about was food. _

_One of the Major's men kicked open the emergency exit, he scanned the doorway with his machinegun, finding nothing. He tried to jump through but was repelled by a shimmering golden force field. A spiritual barrier, so the Volturi had come prepared for this day. They wanted no survivors. _

_The soldiers could not pass through the Spiritual barrier, but Major, Dok and Captain could. The Major turned to the soldiers, "I want you men to stay here, see that no one gets past you." _

_The soldiers nodded eagerly, glad to sacrifice themselves to the Major's will. _

_With that, the little fat man and his two most talented people travelled down the concrete hallway, illuminated by flickering fluorescent lights. Dok chewed on his lip nervously. With steady hands, he pulled an injection gun from his lab coat and gave himself a quick dose. _

_The Major saw this motion and gave Dok a bemused look, "My grand professor, you are surrounded by monsters. Why is it then that you seek to suppress your own internal monster?"_

_Dok wanted to respond, but the Major did not understand how delicate a subject this was, how much it cut at Dok's heart just to hear him speak of it this way. Didn't he? _

_The passage of the three Nazis was halted by three cloaked figures. Major smiled. Dok gasped. The Captain was silent. _

_The middle one spoke, "Caius will reward us handsomely for this." _

_The Unstet to the middle of him said, "He will reward us doubly for slaying the last child of the moon." _

_The Major said to the trio, "Truly you do not understand what you face. The werewolves you have slayed in the past were nothing but pups. What you face now is a full grown hunter. I bid you __**abschied**__." _

_Taking the cue, the Captain walked forward. His steps were not inhumanly graceful; instead they carried a superhuman sense of strength. Every step he took made the dust on the floor jump with his incredible density. His hands were clenched into fists. The child of the moon who had bee nicknamed Hans Gunsche was the physical manifestation of the surest most silent confidence and strength. _

_The first of the Volturi guards charged at Hans with the half the speed of a bullet. He pounced upon the Captain, ready to thrust a hand through the werewolf's heart._

_However good the guard thought that he was, he wasn't good enough. The Captain swung out with a giant fist and swatted the overconfident Unstet out of the air like a fly. _

_Newfoundland, Canada, Present day_

The day was overcast; clouds blotted out the sun and threatened to start pouring rain if the people of Newfoundland did anything to offend them.

As rainy as Newfoundland was, it was no Forks. The place didn't have clouds every single day. Part of the conditions under which Joham agreed to meet Dok was that there would be clouds.

The group of villainous desperados all stood in the backyard of Dok's stolen cabin. They all stood facing each other. Joham and his six daughters all stood like tributes to perfection on the cabin's immaculate green lawn.

Dok and Captain stood, a scarecrow and Atlas. Schrodinger was sitting down in a lawn chair reading one of his _Garfield_ books. The cat boy seemed completely oblivious to the goings on with his master and the Dutch Unstet. He'd also proven completely immune to the daughter's attempts at flirting.

Joham gestured to the six insanely gorgeous women that he'd brought with him, "These are my daughters, Abigail, Hanneke and Sanneke (they are twins), Veerle and Ega." The daughters all waved in a very seductive fashion at Dok and companions.

Dok took the stage, "This is Schrodinger." Schrodinger didn't care that Dok was calling his name; Garfield was much too funny for that. Anyways, Joham seemed more comfortable with Schrodinger's presence with all his daughters with him.

"And this blonde brute ist the Captain, who ve sometimes call Hans or Hans Gunsche." The Captain had his eyes directed at the visitors but his stoic expression was unreadable.

Joham took a few steps forward, hardly daring to believe that the nearly eight foot tall creature before him was real. "Vascinating, so this is really one of the children of the moon?"

Dok nodded and smiled, "Ja, he ist vone of them."

Joham began to walk around the Captain's huge girth, "I would very much like to know more about him."

"If you vill tell me about your daughters, then you may ask about my volf."

One of the daughters, Ega, spoke, "That seems a perfectly fair and reasonable offer, _vader_."

Joham turned around and gave his daughter a look which was full of hate, disappointment and promise of pain. Ega's mouth formed into an "o" shape as she realized that she'd violated one of her father's most important rules, speaking out of turn. "I'm sorry papa, it won't happen again."

Joham said to her in a quiet voice, "We will speak of this later." He turned around again to face Dok, "I think that is fair, tell me about Hans, and I will answer any questions that you have about my _dochters_."

Dok started, patting the Captain's well toned bicep, "The Captain ist very hardy. He is immune to a vast range of radiological, chemical and biological weapons. He ist immune to silver and ist very strong."

"How strong is he?" Joham asked the rail thin Nazi scientist.

Dok grinned ear to ear, "Captain, demonstrate your strength as ve discussed."

The Captain took two giant strides forward until he was upon Ega like a towering specter. One of his hands, as wide enough to completely wrap around Ega's head, reached forward and tenderly took her hand.

And then with no warning, he completely crushed Ega's hand. The beautiful girl screamed as Hans crushed bone to paste. Screaming loudly, Ega struck the Captain on the Chest with the force of a rockslide.

There was a massive WHUMP noise as her good fist collided with the Captain's sternum. The force of the blow was enough to send him sliding backwards twenty feet. He would have flown much farther but the Captain bent his knees and dug his feet into the ground.

Ega was shocked and not only with pain. She's struck the wolf man with enough force to shatter granite and there he was without so much as a broken rib.

Dok continued, "The Captain ist very strong und very durable. He has actually caught Walter Dornez's vires vith his hands and received nothing but minor lacerations."

Joham's eyes widened, now _that_ was impressive. "You don't say."

"But I do. Now I vould like to ask some questions about your darling _totchters_."

Joham cleared his throat even though he didn't need to; it was time to play the showman. He strutted over to Abigail and put an arm around her shoulders, "These are my daughters. I mated with mortal women and you can see the results before you."

Dok raised an eyebrow, "I vas not avare that Unstet were even capable of sexual reproduction."

Joham's smile was so sweet it was almost sickening, "That is a halv truth. The female Unstet are sterile because their bodies never ovulate. The testes on the male however, remain fully functional, it is only the matter of finding a place to plant the seed."

Joham took his arm off of Abigail, "Now for whatever reason, the sperm cell of Unstet are compatible with the egg cells of humans. In fact, the Unstet sperm are favored by the egg above ordinary human seed."

"When my daughters were born, they used their very sharp teeth to chew their way out. The placenta of such a birth is as hard as our flesh, so in many ways, it is very much like an egg rather than a placenta. So after a viviparous gestation period of two weeks and seemingly ovoviviparous birth, the vampirovic starts to develop rapidly."

"Vampirovic?"

Joham explained, "Yes, from the Slavic word for half vampire. I use it to distinguish them from the infamous dhampirs." He then pushed Schrodinger out of his lawn chair and took it for himself, not because he needed to sit, but because he wanted to act nonchalant, "Now, about that marvelous Captain of yours."

Dok ignored Schrodinger's grumbling, "The Captain's strength is tied in with the lunar cycle. His strength and powers are greatest on the full moon, but even on the new moon he still commands vast superhuman ability."

Joham put his hands together in a gesture that mimicked relaxation in a human, "You mentioned strength and powers. What kind of powers are you referring to?"

Dok informed Joham, "I vill tell you about my Hans when you tell me something significant about your vampirovic daughters."

Joham stood up from the lawn chair, straightening out his white suit that made him look like a Southern Gentlemen. "Sanneke, please show the Doktor your pretty hands."

Sanneke, in her gorgeous red dress ambled her way over to Dok, who was not physically aroused by her presence but still found her beautiful.

She held out her hands to Dok as though she'd really rather not let him touch her. Dok began to examine her hands. A human would have looked on her hands and seen no flaws. Dok however had much better vision than a human. What he saw surprised him.

He looked up at Sanneke, "Calluses."

Joham was bursting with glee, finally glad to have somebody to share information with, "Yes, Doktor. My daughter's bodies are not like the static unchanging bodies of vampires. They can adapt and grow stronger."

Dok marveled at such a revelation. For the vast majority of their lives, the bodies of Unstet were unchanging and permanent. Only their powers showed any kind of development.

Joham continued using his showman's voice, "Just so that you understand, Doktor, I will explain. My daughters are very resilient; they can survive brief dramatic incidents like beheading, dismemberment or being blown up. But small and prolonged stimuli cause their bodies to adapt and become stronger. For the last five hundred years I have been subjecting my daughters to a rigorous and repetitive training regiment. Results were slow to present themselves initially, but gradually my girl's muscles have grown denser and more developed."

He pointed to Hanneke, "My little _bloem_ is forty percent stronger than when she reached physical maturity one hundred and eighty years ago." Joham then pointed to Abigail, "My eldest daughter has been used as a test subject to determine if a vampirovic is able to atrophy."

Hanneke looked a little bit pained at the thought of her father's experiments on Abigail, but banished these thoughts from her mind because she and all her sisters would do anything for their papa.

Joham continued, "Neither starvation nor lack of activity can make their muscles lose their strength. Their muscles may sustain damage but they can never atrophy; a gift from their vampire heritage."

Dok was wide eyed at this information; perhaps there were some grounds for Joham to consider his daughter's to be a master race. But now it was his turn to show and tell, "The Captain has many powers; strength and durability are only the lesser amongst them."

Dok turned to Hans and barked an order, "_Hapsturmfuhrer, schik uw gezicht_."

The Captain's eyes seemed to show understanding and for a moment, nothing happened. Then the Captain did something that shocked Joham and his daughters. The Captain's face started to rearrange itself. His eyes, his nose and his mouth all started to move and change positions until the Captain looked like a Picasso in motion. Hans's features swum around his face like floating pieces in a stirred soup.

Dok barked again, somehow it felt good to raise his voice against the Captain, "_Hapsturmfuhrer, zeigen zie ihren wolfarm_!"

Immediately the Captain's facial features shifted back to their regular positions. Without a word, the Captain raised the sleeve of his long greatcoat. For a moment, they saw a muscular but normal looking arm. Suddenly, the Captain's arm had multiple wolves' mouths forming along its length which immediately began to bark and snap.

Dok sneered as he barked more orders at his right hand man, "_Hapsturmfuhrer, ich ordne sie an, zu heulen!_"

The myriad wolf mouths on Hans arm disappeared; each one fused shut and was lost in his hard, muscular flesh. The werewolf pulled down his sleeve. Without further ado, Hans threw back his head and howled to the heavens.

AAAAAARRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It was a how like nothing that Joham had ever heard. The howl seemed to contain within itself savage joy and barbaric hatred that the wolf man was incapable of expressing as a human. The sheer volume of the howl could be heard for kilometers on end. It shook the earth and challenged the heavens. Birds flew from their perches and wolves froze in place, disbelieving that such a howl could come from the throats of one of their own.

Joham stood there, totally shocked. His daughters stood behind him as though he could shield them from the child of the moon.

Dok's grin was wider than ever, "Vell Joham, vhat do you think? Ist my werewolf impressive enough for you?"

Joham's composure seemed to return to him, "Impressive does not even begin to describe this magnificent creature. I suppose that you would like some more information on my daughters?"

Dok shook his head, "_Vielen dank_, but for today I am satisfied." Dok held out a hand covered in a white surgical glove, "Do you think that ve vill be able to vork together, as two partners of total equality?"

Joham reached to take Dok's hand, "I think that can be arranged, _mijn vriend_?"

"I think that vould be possible, _mein freund._" Dok shook Joham's hand in a powerful grip, "Together, ve can make happen the _ragnarok _that was planned for the end of the last millennium."

Joham wore a wry smile on his face, "Let us see if we cannot outdo what was planned all those short years ago."

The lenses on Dok's goggles glinted, "That is the spirit."

_Volterra Italy, Wesker's Laboratory_

Wesker stood in the laboratory next to Caius, Marcus and Aro. He was well rested now, having been allowed a full night's sleep for once.

The lowly guardsman named Bram pushed in a body on a gurney. The body in question was a human corpse dressed in what looked like a military man's funeral uniform. In life the man had been a high ranking officer of the Hellsing Organization, one Peter Ferguson.

In life Ferguson was a loyal soldier who had boasted an impressive record and ironclad loyalty. The assault by the Valentine brothers had cost him his life and given him a hero's death.

The body was several years old now, but a happy accident had left the shriveled and withered corpse mostly intact. High acidity in the soil of his burial and a bad leak in his coffin meant that Peter Ferguson had not decayed, much.

Behind Bram, there entered a human dressed in a bathrobe. The man in the bathrobe was called Boris Dragosani. Boris was an interrogation master of sorts. He specialized in interrogating the dead because Boris Dragosani was a necromancer.

Simply raising the dead like a bunch of smelly rotting puppets was childs play. Actually gathering information from the dead was something that took skill as well as instinct.

In his right hand, Dragosani carried a black leather bag; his necromancy kit. Dragosani was about fifty years old but acted like he was forty. When he was twenty he had acted like he was forty. Whatever his age was, he was one of the best when it came to the dark art of necromancy.

Sometimes when things got difficult with the dead, Dragosani would wear the clothes of the dead to better facilitate his art. Today though there would be no need for that.

The Romanian necromancer placed his kit on the table next to Ferguson's cadaver. Boris turned to the three Volturi leaders, "Your lords, I am about to begin. If you wish to leave, then I will not attempt to stop you."

Caius told the graying necromancer in no uncertain terms, "We are not squeamish schoolgirls, earn your keep."

Dragosani turned to Wesker and then to Ferguson, "Well, enjoy the show then." With a smooth motion, Dragosani took off his bathrobe, revealing his naked physique. With no sense of modesty, Dragosani opened up his kit and revealed a collection of surgeon's knives and butcher's tools as well as a few portable torture devices and a notepad.

The black and grey haired Romanian reached for the largest of his blades. Whether he wanted to or not, Peter Ferguson was going to tell him everything.

At the lab's entrance, Bram was rolling more gurneys with more bodies on them, from the Vatican, from Hellsing, from the Umbrella Corporation and from Millennium's supporters. None of them were going anywhere and unfortunately for them, neither was Dragosani.

* * *

I've had a ton of fun writing this chapter, I hope that you all have a ton of fun reading this. Send me your reviews; give me your criticisms and your praises equally. For whatever reason you want to review, please do so. And don't forget, I'm open to requests as long as they're reasonable.

Ta

Master of the Boot


	20. Alucard strikes back

The Big Hellsing: Chapter Twenty

Alucard strikes back

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing, Twilight, Zohall Mercer, Erin Sorrel or any other copywrited work that I'm featuring in this story. This is purely a non-profit endeavor.

Edward Cullen sat before his piano, unsure of what to play. Edward loved to play the piano; it was a source of release and his second favorite pastime. His foremost pastime was to spend time with Bella, but the girl needed her space and she was only human. As a human, she could tire, become injured or worse. Despite the advice of everyone around him, he had a tendency to treat the love of his life with kid gloves, a tendency that the logical part of him recognized as counterproductive.

Now though, Edward had a need to play the piano. But what could he play? For many moments he sat there, still as a statue, never even blinking. What he felt like was a piece of piano music that was very dark.

The trouble was that he didn't have very much dark music. Most of the music that he owned or wrote tended to be spiritually uplifting or very sad. Edward had never been a fan of angry or dark music before. Rock and roll pushed at his limits while heavy metal music made him want to vomit.

He'd tried playing a few sad pieces of piano music, but it had only irritated him and left him unfulfilled. Several blues albums left Edward with the same thing. If anything the normally relaxing blues music only sent him on edge with a desire to find the special musical specimen that eluded him.

The slender vampire tried to play some of his more recent music, _The Crocodile Rock, Long Tall Sally, Johnny Cash _and some of his classical music pieces. None of it seemed to slake his musical lust.

Really, _really_, Edward felt like a dark piece of music. But where did this dark desire come from? Scarce two weeks ago he would have laughed at anyone who suggested to him that he'd desire a melody such as he desired now.

Edward thought about it, but the answer appeared right in front of his face. This little desire to darkness in his notes had first made itself known when Alucard had first kicked down the door to their mansion of a home and intruded into their lives.

Alucard was a powerful presence, one way or another he'd made his mark on all of the Cullens. Somehow, although Edward hardly believed it, Alucard had managed to fool Carlisle into thinking that he was a friend. Somehow he'd managed to tattoo Emmett and Rosalie. The pair of them tried to conceal their thoughts from him, but something that emotionally disturbing was not easy to hide, especially when the tattoos moved when nobody was watching.

Alucard had done something so horrific to Jasper and Alice that they'd up and left for Boca Raton. They'd fled the house before Edward could get a clear reading of their thoughts. All that he did manage to get from their minds was that whatever happened, involved Alice sprinkling holy water on Alucard's testicles. The image of that had made Edward angry enough to want to spit venom into Alucard's big red eyes. The image had also left him disgusted enough to wish that he'd be able to forget.

Alucard had done something horrible to Alice of a sexual nature, of that Edward was certain. Edward would be lying though, if he were to say that Alucard's visit hadn't affected him as well.

One month ago, Alucard had visited the family with the intent to kill or consume Jasper. The time span was a mere drop in the bucket compared to what he had experienced. Besides, a million years wouldn't be enough to make anybody forget Alucard.

In Alucard, Edward had seen the sum of his greatest fears and his deepest darkest desires all in one package. Edward was a monster and he used to really act the part. But whatever diabolical acts that he'd committed, Edward was a fledgling, a mere tadpole compared to the abominable stain upon the earth that Alucard was.

For all of the lives that he'd claimed in the vampire wars, Jasper's kill count was a blip compared to Alucard's great list of victims. How could you possible want to listen to happy music and love songs when a monster like that was still roaming the earth? How could you want to dress in bright, happy colors every morning when Alucard was there to make the days a little shorter and the nights a little longer?

But it wasn't just Alucard's fault that things seemed so dark. There were other lesser sleazeballs out there who helped to kill the light of the sun.

Alexander Anderson, assassin, mutant, monster and pawn of the church; he shared some of the blame as well. A month ago he'd beaten Paladin Anderson in a fight, using his speed and an improvised weapon to counter the Paladin's superior strength and regenerative abilities.

But only three days ago, the mutant Paladin had showed him just how lucky he'd been to beat him in the first place. Anderson had cut up Edward and laid him on a slab. Despite the fact that Edward had been dismembered, beheaded and stabbed in the brain, he was just fine. He didn't even have any soreness. It was what happened to Bella that made him really angry.

In his callousness, Anderson had swatted at Bella like a fly. He could have crushed her as easily as a fly too. Bella had walked away from that with minor injuries, but thankfully no concussion. Badly, Edward wanted to get back at Paladin Anderson. He wanted to go back and test Anderson's regeneration to the point of breaking and humiliate the Paladin.

But he didn't have only himself to consider. The only thing keeping the Vatican away from the Cullen family was their antagonism with the American Vampire Hunters. The Longdarque Corps hated the Iscariots. The CIA hated them even more. The FBI had been the ones who secretly brought the pedophilia of the American Catholic Bishops to light, scandalizing the Catholic Church and further wreaking its hold on power in the land of the free. The BPRD had once had a friendly relationship with Section 13, but that was before Enrico Maxwell's time.

As much as the Vatican hated the American Vampire Hunters, if provoked they might give away the position of the Cullen family and put them on the run, or worse.

So for now, Edward would try to forget about them. For now, he'd forget about Anderson, Alucard, Hellsing and the vampire hunters. Bella was fine; she'd received a nasty bump on the head, but it wasn't life threatening. His family was fine; some of them might be nursing psychological scars for a while, but they were fine.

And that was really all that mattered; his family and his love were fine. He could really ask for nothing more.

Sitting here thinking about all those assholes wasn't doing anything good for Edward's mood. After hours sitting there like a statue he rose up to try and find that mysterious piece of music that his heart wanted to hear.

He vaguely remembered that Rosalie had owned some grimmer examples of music. She'd forbidden him to touch her music, so he'd honored her wishes.

Maybe he'd find what he sought on the internet. After a little searching, Edward tried the name of a German band that came highly recommended by Alucard. A moment later, the Edward found the perfect song.

The song was called _Du Hast_. The song's lyrics were a play on traditional German wedding vows. In the German language, the words for have and hate are spelled and pronounced the same, H-A-S-T. So you really couldn't tell if the singer was saying, "You have me" or "You hate me".

Now that he had his grim music, Edward felt like a grim book. Just because Alucard was alive and well didn't mean that you couldn't enjoy yourself with a good book.

Edward zipped into the Cullen library with lightening speed. He went over a few favorites of his, _Wuthering Heights, Pride and Prejudice, Romeo and Juliet_. Like the music, none of the old favorites seemed to do it for him today.

He smiled when he saw one of the titles jump out at him, _Titus Andronicus_. It was a work of Shakespeare, but what a work. The play was so gruesome and vulgar that many doubted whether the bard had really written it at all. If _Othello_ was a tragedy of lovers then _Titus _was a melodrama of butchery, featuring torture, mutilation, rape and cannibalism; nothing that people usually associated with Shakespeare.

As Edward began to read the first passages of Shakespeare's most gruesome story, he thought to himself, "_I hope that this doesn't become a habit._" He honestly hoped that this craving for black music and books was only temporary. What would his family think of him if they could see him now? Emmett would probably laugh at him if he could forget about his tattoo.

Edward read slower than normal, for once wanting to take his time. It took him over four minutes to reach the halfway point of the book. He'd just arrived at the part of the story where Lavinia's luck was taking a turn for the worse when his cell phone rung out.

Slightly miffed at the interruption of his contemplation and reading, Edward none the less rose up to answer his phone. He answered the phone with a cordial, "Hello."

On the other end of the line, his sister Alice screamed, "EDWARD!"

Had he been human, Edward would have pulled away from the phone for fear of his eardrums sustaining damage. Instead, Edward tried to calm his sister down, "Alice, lower your voice, there's no reason to get excited."

Alice sounded exasperated, "Edward, I'm not excited, I'M TERRIFIED OUT OF MY MIND!"

Edward hit the pause on the music before querying his sister, "Alright, hold your horses. What's got you in such a state?"

"What's got me in such a state? I'll tell you, it's not what, its who."

Edward rolled his eyes with frustration. Normally his sister was a permanent pixy spring of optimism and good feeling; she'd have to have seen something very bad to get her this riled up. "Alright Alice, who did you see?"

"You want to know? You want to know who I _freaking_ saw? I saw Alucard and he's coming back to Forks. Now can you see WHY I'M SO _FREAKING_ TERRIFIED?"

Instantly Edward became attentive and agitated, "What!"

_PanAm Aircraft, first class, en rout to Port Angeles_

"That's right Edward; the No-Life King is coming to our sleepy little town." Alice spoke with Edward on her cell phone. Such electronic devices were normally forbidden to be turned on during flights such as these, but her call to Edward could not wait. Besides, her vision had shown her that this plane would land safely.

Even without the aid of visions, Alice could imagine Edward begin to pace and frown. He only ever did that when something extremely bad happened. The first time he acted like that was the night where Bella's eighteenth birthday nearly became her last, just one paper cut. She supposed that Alucard barging into town would be sufficient to get that look back.

For a moment Edward was silent, "Alright Alice, just stay calm. I'll get on the phone and contact Carlisle and perhaps he'll know what to do."

Alice nodded, trying to avoid being noticed by the flight attendants. In the seat next to her sat Jasper. Upon hearing the news of Alucard's return, he'd withdrawn into himself like a turtle into its shell. He hadn't even bothered to try and calm her down with his empathic powers. It hurt her to see her husband reduced to this. In life and her own imagination, he'd always been a silent powerhouse. To see him cowed like this was beyond horrifying. In a gesture of love, she gently took his larger hand in her smaller one.

Edward's sophisticated but tense voice broke her reverie, "Alice, I'm sorry but I have to ask you this. Did Alucard do anything to you?"

He didn't just ask that question, he did not just ask that question, "Edward, he didn't do anything to me. He didn't do anything to _me!_ It's Jasper; he's the one that's suffering." Her voice began as a whisper but rapidly it was turning into a yell, "He's the one that was raped by Alucard! He needs out help! Nothing happened to me, but it should have been me there, being raped by Alucard!"

Alice quickly looked over to Jasper, who was hugging her tightly now. "Did I yell?"

Jasper nodded, a little of his old self back again, "Actually, you yelled." She'd yelled so loud in fact, that every other passenger in first class was looking at the two of them.

A flight attendant perkily informed Alice, "Excuse me miss, would you please turn off your cellular phone?"

_Forks, Washington, Cullen Residence_

"Sorry Edward, I've got to hang up now, bysies."

Edward just stood there with the cell phone to his ear, had he just heard what it was he heard? He'd had suspicions that Alucard had forced himself on Alice, but the truth shocked him beyond belief. Just about every man who has a sister, that loves his sister, has a plan in case somebody ever takes advantage of her. But a much smaller number of men have a plan in place in the event that somebody takes advantage of their brother.

Jasper was an able fighter, the best of the whole Cullen clan, in a million years Edward could never have foreseen these events. Truly, it seemed that Alucard had no limits. The usual standards of depravity and cruelty just weren't good enough for them.

His mind was suddenly flooded with concern for Emmett. It was entirely possible that while he was applying the tattoo to Emmett and Rosalie, that he'd molested one or both of them. Suddenly the world felt like a much scarier place. It was also entirely possible that Alucard was of the homosexual persuasion, a possibility that terrified Edward.

Regardless of public opinion these days, Edward didn't like homosexuality. He didn't like it, didn't like to think about it, didn't like to talk about it and thought it was amoral and disgusting. But still, if Alucard was a homosexual, then it might not entirely be a bad thing. He'd likely ignore Bella and head straight for Edward.

He was a mind reader, not a future reader. But even so, Edward could feel it in his bones that dark times were ahead. When times were dark, you had to grasp at any good things you could before they were snatched away.

_Canada, Unknown Location_

Alucard was in Canada. Why was he in Canada? Even he didn't know the answer. Integra had ordered him to accept Carlisle's invitation to Bella's wedding. Her instructions had been simple, "Search and destroy." Alucard loved it when she gave him instruction like that, vague and unspecific.

He respected his master greatly, but her use of the phrase, "Search and destroy" really had him questioning her intelligence. The last time she used the phrase, "Search and destroy", he had ended up slaughtering a whole Rio swat team because he was too lazy to actually find the vampire manipulating him.

He never even got a slap on the wrist for that. So either Integra was an idiot, or she just didn't care that he'd butchered a whole Rio swat team. Alucard found the latter to be very comforting.

Anyway, why was he in Canada? Last trip to the United States, his coffin had been loaded onto a cargo plane and he'd been shipped off.

Alucard had virtually no experience whatsoever with commercial airports. He'd taken a private jet to Rio all those years ago but that was different.

_Five hours ago_

_Alucard sat in the lobby of the airport, just waiting. It was wrong for him to be waiting with the rest of the urban scum. He was the No-Life King; he ought to be blasting his way onto the airplane right now. _

_Then he remembered what Aro had told him almost a month ago. The annoying Unstet had been right; he was the No-Life King of nothing. Nothing but Hellsing's hatchet man now, although his current master was a huge improvement over previous ones. _

_It was still half an hour before general boarding began and Alucard was bored. At that moment, he began to hear the sounds of a pipe organ. Where pipe organs standard fare at airports? Alucard didn't have the necessary experience to answer that question. _

_So, grabbing his suitcase full of ammo, he attempted to find the source of the organ music. _

_Diligent searching and keen observation led him to discover that the source of the organ music was a velvet curtain with a cool breeze coming from behind it. Some Arab guy with a cigarette stood next to the curtain, looking as though he were about to drop dead at any minute. _

_Alucard pointed to the man, "You, Mohametan, what is behind that curtain?"_

_Without moving his mouth or lips, the man responded, "Whydon'',mypantsaretootight." _

_Alucard stood for a moment, for the life of him he hadn't understood what the hell this guy was saying. "Excuse me?"_

"_'Theweatherisveryhotandmymomissweating." _

_Alucard tried to correct the man, "You know, in the English language its proper grammar to pause slightly between words. You're just saying whole sentences as one word." _

_The Arab fellow seemed to take Alucard's advice into consideration, "Mycousinhasmarriedthreegoatsandiwantetotellyou??????????Corn????????SamIambutI'mnot samI'mAbdulRa'sAlGhulsays###############."_

_Alucard looked at Abdul, "What?" Alucard held up his hand, stopping another torrent of indecipherable speech, "Just forget about it, I'll find out what's behind the curtain myself. Are you wearing a different jacket?"_

_Abdul shot back, "No." _

"_But just a minute ago your jacket was blue and now it's green. How could you change your jacket in the time it takes me to blink?"_

_Abdul shrugged. _

_Alucard sighed, "I'm going to enter the curtain now. Save a cigarette for me." _

_Canada, now_

So Alucard entered the curtain. It turned out that Abdul's brother was the Lebanese phantom of the airport. He threw something into Alucard's face, some sort of powder. The powder caused Alucard to fall unconscious.

When he woke up he was in Canada, with all of his ammunition and his coffin but with no plane ticket.

He tried to call Integra but she was no help, "What the hell are you doing in Canada? I don't care what happened just get your sorry hide to Forks; quash any threats that reside there! You have your orders."

Alucard hated Canada, but at least now he had a chance to buy a Gordon Lightfoot album. If he was very lucky, he might get a chance to kill Sasquatch while he was here in the great white north.

_

* * *

_

Data Summary: Ally designation Wesker has delivered latest report. Allie designation Wesker was surprised by our progress check.

_Conclusion: Ally designation Wesker is not trustworthy. Probability of his betrayal: eighty-six percent. _

_Ally designation Wesker is still a valuable asset to the Hive. Prepare to put the termination plan on standby and formulate alternatives. _

_Agreed, until renewal is achieved or until the full depth of Ally designation Wesker's plans are revealed, termination will be withheld. _

_New Data: Probe has revealed that there are areas of Ally designation Wesker's brain which show signs of unusual neural activity including but not limited to cross synaptic firing and rampant neurogenesis. More information pending. _

_Analysis completion: With regards to vampire group unit designation Cullens. Satellite scans as well as scout probes confirm Ally designation Wesker's reports of seven individual vampire creatures as well as a tribe of human mutations in the area. Recommend that we liquidate human mutations. _

_Negative, analysis of mutation's DNA might yield useful information. _

_Understood, for the time being, we will observe the mutations and at the opportune time we will gather genetic samples, by force if necessary. _

_Disturbing news._

_Explain?_

_According to stolen data from the Volturi archives, one of the vampires designated Alice Cullen possesses the power of prescience. _

_Unlikely. If this is true, then vampire creature designation Alice Cullen must be terminated immediately. _

_The schedule must be shortened, tightened. _

_The grand design must be advanced. _

_Renewal will occur. _

_Vampires are impediments to renewal. _

_Impediments are unacceptable. _

_Impediments will be removed. _

_God wills it. _

_God wills it._

_God wills it. _

* * *

Everybody, thanks for turning up to review my story. This story still has a long ways to go and I still have room for requests.  
So now, Alucard is going to go on a cross country road trip to reach Forks. Like a tornado, he's going to blast a path of destruction across America like nothing that's ever been seen. Sorry to you American guys, but it's Alucard we're talking about.

Ta

Master of the Boot


	21. The Road to Forks

The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair

Chapter Twenty-one: Road Trip

Disclaimer: I don't own any publicly recognized characters in this story. I do however dream of one day moving to Spain and marrying a man. Not really.

_Washington DC, the Whitehouse_

Alucard was in Washington, and the tears of America never tasted so sweet. It was pouring rain outside and thundering. Alucard was taking shelter under a Barack Obama umbrella, one of a dozen souvenirs that he'd gotten for himself before burning the Whitehouse to cinders.

He had to admit, the sight of the Whitehouse burning in the middle of this heavy rain was so iconic. Before long, the firefighters would appear and try to save some of the rubble, but before then the rain would put out the flames.

Alucard hadn't seen anything burn this beautifully since the Reichstag building. A part of him wanted to stick around and roast his Barack Obama marshmallows over the fire, but he was on a tight schedule. The five hundred year old vampire had wasted enough time as it was purchasing the Barack Obama baseball cap, Barack Obama ascot, Barack Obama beer, Barack Obama barbecue sauce, Barack Obama double barreled shotgun, Barack Obama shotgun shells, Barack Obama Casull rounds and Barack Obama TNT.

Temporarily placing his merchandise down, Alucard pulled a cellular phone from his jacket. Integra would want a report now that he was in Washington.

With a push of a button, Alucard's ear was greeted with the sound of a ringing telephone.

In a pinch, his Master's masculine voice came across the line, "What is it, Alucard?"

"Master, I'd like to report that I'm now in Washington and need now only to scout the town of Forks. That's when I find it though."

Integra paused for a moment, considering her response, "Are you in the right Washington?"

Alucard was confused, "What do you mean, Master?"

Integra snapped at him, "Are you in Washington DC or Washington State?"

Now Alucard was very confused, "Wait, you're saying that there are two Washingtons? Why wasn't I told about this?"

Integra had little patience for her servant's ignorance, "Perhaps you should learn to read a map, idiot!"

And without so much as a goodbye, she hung up on him. Alucard fumed, how dare she talk to him this way! He was the trump card of the Hellsing Organization and she just talked down to him like he was one of the chipped trash vampires. With a mighty swing, he flung his new umbrella as far as he could.

Well this was just perfect. Now he was getting wet. Dejectedly, Alucard picked up his merchandise and walked towards his umbrella.

_Washington state, Port Angeles Airport_

Alice had seen Alucard's arrival in DC before he'd even arrived there. She'd seen things before that made her regret her clairvoyance, but nothing like Alucard. When she saw him in her far seeing eye, she not only saw him but saw the immense evil that he carried in his heart and worked with his hands.

Now that he'd intruded into the lives of her family, she was seeing more of him. During the plane's final descent, she'd have another vision of Alucard. He wasn't committing any serious crime, he was just masturbating.

Alice had had a vision of Alucard masturbating. She'd never felt the need to barf before, but for five whole minutes she'd experienced revulsion worse than anything else she'd seen before.

Oh she'd done her best to put the vision out of her mind, only watching the No-Life King beat his meat for twelve seconds. But she'd be seeing that for a while, burned into her mind's eyes. Jasper had picked up his wife's potent feelings of revulsion and had been so overcome by them that everybody on the plane was feeling what Alice felt.

That was in the past now, they were safely in the Port Angeles Airport to meet with their family.

As per an earlier vision, Carlisle and Esme were there to greet the new arrivals. Carlisle smiled warmly and bid Alice and Jasper, "Welcome back you kids. We've all been worried about you."

Esme's response was far less subdued; she immediately jumped towards the young lovers and hugged Alice like she'd been returned from an Iranian prison. Even harder, she hugged Jasper and started to pepper his cheek with motherly kisses. Immediately, the Cullen matriarch started to weep motherly comfort, "Oh Jasper, that maniac hurt you! I'll never let him hurt you ever again! Please tell me you're alright. Please say that you're alright!"

It was all too much for Esme and she started to dry weep for her adopted son. Jasper said nothing to Esme's emotionally charged query. Rather than try to calm her down, he simply stood there and basked in the comfort of her motherly emotions.

Ignoring the crowds that were all staring at Esme's hysterical outburst, Carlisle asked Alice, "Did you find what you were looking for in Boca Raton?"

Alice looked over at her finely sculpted fashion, who caressed his weeping mother, "I think that we found just a little bit of healing. We're still working on that."

The blond Cullen father nodded, "I'll see if I can play the psychiatrist to Jasper some time."

"Where are Edward and Emmett, or Rosalie?" The cute pixie asked her adopted daddy.

Carlisle answered readily enough, "Edward is driving Rosalie through Seattle. She said something about a tattoo and that I probably don't want to know. Emmet is watching over Bella right now, she's doing well by the way."

Alice looked sad, "I saw Bella in a vision last night, her clothes are very, very poopy. I need to head over to her house right away and make her pretty for the world."

Carlisle understood Alice's need to decorate and beautify everything around her. Bella however, took to Alice's treatments like a hot needle to the eye. "There's something you need to know, Alice."

Before he could continue, she interrupted, "I know, Alucard is coming to Forks. But we have time, he's been delayed! He's in Washington DC right now and-"

"Alice, I invited Alucard to Forks."

Alice just looked at Carlisle with an expression of utmost shock. She whispered softly, "What?"

Carlisle grimaced, it wasn't easy to explain to Edward, it was harder to explain to Rosalie and Emmett, and it wasn't going to be any easier with Alice. "Alucard's Master is meeting with a leader of organized crime and they need a place to meet. Bella's wedding will be the perfect place for that meeting to happen."

Alice was aghast; it was like Carlisle was betraying her, "How can you invite him here, after all that he's done to us."

"Alucard is a friend, a very close friend. I would have done the same for Tanya, Benjamin or any other of my true friends."

Alice was taking a tone with Carlisle that she'd never taken before, "That thing raped my Jasper. I can't forgive that."

"I don't ask you to forgive him, or like him, or tolerate him for that matter."

Alice shook her head, "Jasper and I are going to run home, if that's alright with you."

About facing, Alice walked towards Esme and Jasper, who were more or less oblivious to the interchange between herself and Carlisle.

Esme had stopped sobbing but was still holding Jasper in a crushing grip. It was literally a crushing grip; Esme hugged him hard enough to bend steel. Also, Jasper was no longer so eager to be in Esme's embrace. He'd had his fill of turbocharged motherly emotion and now longed for Alice's far gentler pixie hug.

Gently, Jasper tried to tell his mommy, "Uh, mom, can you let go now?"

Voice cracked with feelings, Esme howled, "Until Alucard is gone forever, I'll never be able to let you go!"

Jasper took a moment to grasp the implications behind this. Oh darn it, how will he get by with his mother watching him like an infant?

Alice stepped onto the scene. She tried to tell her mother in the gentlest terms possible, "Mom, if you could let go of Jasper. I'd really like to give him a hug now; you've had your turn." Reluctantly, Esme peeled herself off of Jasper.

With mom fueled vigor, Esme flung herself around her husband like a drowning person clutching a flotation device. Still highly strung, Esme begged Alice, "Please, ride in the car with us. I need to see you kids safe."

Giving a pained smile, Alice ground out, "Sure Esme, we'll ride with you." She'd badly wanted to run home in order to spite her stupid father, but her mother's feelings came first.

And with no further ado, the four began to exit the airport. Their little show had not gone unnoticed; Esme had been far too troubled to keep her voice down.

One man said to his companion, "Think that lady's on her period?"

His partner frowned; his friend always blamed a woman's irrational behavior on their periods. "I've seen periods and I've seen menopause. She must have been hopped up on crack cocaine."

"Desperate housewives, man."

"You think that's bad? You should see my wife when she drops a tab of acid."

The first man's jaw dropped, "You must have the greatest marriage ever!"

The second man said, "Believe me, you don't want to step into my shoes."

_Forks, Washington, Swan Home_

"Edward wants me to wear a chastity belt?" Bella knew that her fiancée was a very old fashioned type of boy. He opened doors for girls, held her hand when she walked down the stairs and talked like a super sophisticated narrator for a college level romance novel. Bella was okay with that; she didn't mind her Edward's olden ways. In fact, she enjoyed Edward for his funny little quirks.

But if Edward was into freaky old fashioned stuff like chastity belts, making her wear a full length dress in summer, having her clean for him and sit down only when he sits down, she was going to have to put her foot down.

Emmett tried to reassure her, "Bella, I know it seems like something way freaky, but trust me when I say that it's for your protection."

Bella held up the highly expensive silver, leather and iron chastity belt, "What's this going to protect me from? Edward and I don't need protection from sex. He's really safe with sex and stuff like that."

Emmett held up his hands in a defensive gesture, "Take it easy Bella; don't shoot the messenger." Not waiting for Bella to ask, he informed her, "I just talked with Edward; he says that Alice told him that Alucard is coming back."

For some reason, vampires like Edward Cullen and Seras Victoria had been unable to read Bella's mind. Despite this, Bella's face was an open book, you almost didn't need to read her mind if you knew her well enough. And now Emmett could see her apprehension as plainly as the nose of her face. Edward was old fashioned and so was Alucard.

But where Edward was old fashioned like the stereotypical Victorian gentleman, Alucard was old fashioned like Genghis Kahn and Joseph Stalin, chopping heads left and right and generally scaring the shit out of their enemies and allies alike.

Bella looked at the chastity belt and at Emmett's face once more, "How come Edward didn't come to show me this, instead of you?"

Emmett explained in his usual friendly, brotherly fashion, "Rosalie needed Edward to help her find something in Seattle. She needed his talent to make sure that what she finds will work."

"What is Rosalie looking for?"

Emmett answered too quickly, "Nothing."

"Why are you wearing a turtleneck?" It was true, Emmett usually preferred to go around in tight muscle shirts and show off as much of his rippling muscle body as was decent. Today however, he was wearing one of Edward's turtleneck shirts. The poor shirt looked like it'd explode into a mass of black threads.

Tight as it was, it was hard not to notice how muscular Emmett was. Still, it was out of character for him to wear so much fabric outside of school.

Emmett pointed a finger at Bella and said in a voice more fitting for a police interrogator, "I'm wearing this shirt because I damn feel like it. Never ask again about it or Rosalie again."

Bella held the chastity belt a little closer to her chest, "Alright, don't get upset."

With his piece said, Emmett returned to his normal teddy bear self, "Normally I don't agree with Edward I'm-so-proper Pretty Boy, but between you, me and the wall over there I think that this belt thing is a great idea."

Relaxing a little, Bella put the chastity belt down on her bed and sat down next to it. "You really think so, Emmett?"

Emmett chuckled, "You bet your bottom dollar. Look, I haven't been around long. At fifty years old I'm the baby of the family. I haven't seen that many evil vampires out there, but Carlisle and especially Jasper have seen plenty."

Bella didn't invite Emmett to sit. He was Unstet; he could stand still like a statue for hours. He never needed to sit down because it as impossible for him to feel fatigue.

Emmett went on, "Those two guys have seen all kinds of evil vampires. But nobody compares to Alucard. He's like Repo Man, Sweeney Todd and John Dillinger all rolled into one."

Bella had no idea who any of these people were but she assumed that they had to be pretty bad men.

"Alucard is just a crazy, mental vamp. When he's in town, you'd better wear this thing. Because believe me, you don't want to wake up one morning and find out that you've been knocked up by a crazy, mental vampire."

Bella frowned, "Is that even possible? I thought vampires were sterile."

Emmett elaborated for the clueless human, "Unstet are sterile. Nosferatu can mate with a human to produce a dhampir."

"What's a dhampir?"

Edward's brother shook his head slightly. He could see how Bella was hot in a subtle sort of way; he could easily imagine her pouting lips on his big John. But sometimes she was ridiculously slow on the uptake. "A dhampir is a half human, half Nosferatu. Those mother scratchers may look calm and peaceful, but watch out. A dhampir can be just as crazy and mental as their parent vampire."

Bella touched the chastity belt, "And this thing will keep him out if he tries to . . . you know."

Emmett's laughter boomed out, "If Alucard even looks at this thing; he'll be blasted across the room. Carlisle used to be an Anglican priest; he had me and Edward standing there for hours just blessing this thing. We had holy water, anointing oil, incense and the whole nine yards. Trust me; it'll keep out any frisky Nosferatu, male, female or hermaphrodite."

"How do they keep them a secret", Bella looked up at Emmett, "I mean, how do they keep creatures like Alucard a secret?"

"First of all, there aren't many Nosferatu in the world, and us Unstet just don't like to cause trouble. If any Nosferatu do get troublesome, they have to deal with the Volturi and Hellsing. Nobody in their right mind would cross either of those two groups."

Bella asked Emmett, "Can this stop a dhampir?"

Emmett drew in a breath, this was a tricky question. "I'm not too sure. Holy relics and blessings don't really hurt them unless you get it into an open wound. Unless it was a weak or very young one, I don't think so."

Bella got up from the bed and started to put the chastity belt into her clothes drawers. She did not want to have to explain to Charlie what she was doing with a chastity belt and where she got it.

Emmet moved from the spot where he stood with a sudden and graceful animation. "Hey, want to hear a funny story?"

"Um, okay."

"Okay, I was . . . oh crap. I hear Charlie pulling up; you'd better put away that thing."

Bella could only nod with agreement.

_Volterra, Italy_

Albert Wesker finished putting on his bow tie. His disguise was now complete. Fifteen minutes ago, he'd looked the part of the evil genius bent on global destruction and subjugation. Now, he looked about as sinister and harmful as cream cheese.

As Wesker slowly gained the trust of the Volturi, he began to perform more and more tasks around the castle in addition to his research duties. One duty that Wesker had been recently assigned was to manage the tours that daily entered the castle.

The massive castle that the Volturi lived in was a major tourist attraction in the city. Hundreds and thousands of tourists every year visited the Castle while never knowing that it was the home of the rulers of the vampire world.

Originally, tours in the castle had been handled by one Gianna. Gianna was dead now and her DNA was used to create clones of her who would then be transformed into Tyrants.

In the intermediary period, tours had been managed by some clueless human who was paid too much money to ask why some of those tour groups would go into the castle but never come out.

Wesker understood perfectly well why some of those tourists simply disappeared. Volterra was the safest city in the world in terms of vampire attacks. Not counting Dracula's reign of terror, the number of vampire attacks in this city over the last three thousand years could be counted on one hand.

With his bow tie done up, Wesker stepped back and surveyed himself in the mirror. Amazing, Wesker surprised himself at his ability to become harmless looking. His usual black business wear had been abandoned in favor of a tasteful but subdued brown suit and matching shoes. Albert's omnipresent sunglasses were also gone. In their place he wore large coke bottle glasses as well as colored contact lenses to disguise his crimson and golden eyes.

Changed also was his hair, his normally stylish hair was now redone in a fashion fitting a stereotypical nerdy scholar. The wolf had put on sheep's clothes. No, not a wolf, a poisonous snake.

Contractually, he wasn't obliged to lead every tour that went into the Castle. However he was required to see a few gaggles of tourists to their deaths. A side benefit of this was that when Wesker tired of the city's selection of whores, he could just grab a comely lady from the doomed tour groups.

This group that Wesker was leading now was from Spain, the country from which Ada Wong had procured a sample of the mind control parasite, Las Plagas. How interesting.

* * *

Leading the group of lower middle class Spanish people down the Castle's corridors, Wesker sounded the part that he was playing. His normally nasal voice was comical instead of diabolical.

They were entering into the deep parts of the castle now. There were no humans in this part of the castle, just security cameras and vampires that were not showing themselves just yet.

Not breaking character, Wesker began to direct the tour group towards the inner most chambers of the Castle.

The fact that he spoke a dozen languages made him the perfect man to lead multinational tour groups. In flawless Spanish he explained, "The chamber up ahead was used by the rulers of this castle during a hypothetical siege. In the event that an enemy breached the outer walls, the highest ranking members of the court could enter this room and seal themselves off. The walls of this room would have been strong enough to hold off nearly any attackers long enough for the King and cohorts to escape via the tunnels beneath this building."

Wesker led the group into the center of the vast underground chamber. In actuality, this room served as the Volturi's throne room. It was here where they doled out life and death as they saw fit.

The room was empty; three thrones carved from granite lay at the far end of the circular chamber. The upper levels of the Castle had possessed of themselves a medieval and historical feel. The lower levels were altogether a different story; down here in stone corridors lit by torch light you really felt like you were lost in the Dark ages. Everything about the lowers levels was designed to oppress the human spirit with dankness and murk.

Famous architects from across history, the most recent being Albert Speer and George Trevor, had left their mark on this ancient eldritch building.

All of the tourists were in the middle of the circular room. Now the jaws of the trap could be sprung.

Though he kept his humble attire, Wesker cast aside his façade. Calmly, he took off his thick glasses. In the torchlight, the red of Wesker's eyes began to shine through the colored contact lenses.

Several of the tourists, a family of five, had noticed his eyes and were looking as though to bolt.

Wesker muttered to himself, "The world will not end with a whimper, but a scream." Depressing a button on his watch, the giant doors of the room noiselessly swung shut.

Only a few of the tourists saw it at first, but rapidly more of them saw that they were now trapped in this timeworn chamber.

The first stirring of panic made themselves felt. Some of the people asked if this was part of the tour while others demanded to be let out. To all of them, Wesker informed, "I'm afraid that you've breathed your last, farewell."

Into a hidden microphone in his clothes, Wesker intoned, "It's time." From there, it all devolved into a living nightmare.

A hidden door opened on the far wall, concealed too cleverly for human eyes to ever see. A figure stepped out of the doorway, clad in a black robe.

The figure had two arms, two legs and a complete face, but it was not human. No human could be that beautiful, surely it must be a god descended from the heavens. The eyes of the thing though, were the eyes of the devil. Perfect orbs of dull burgundy gazed over the humans like a hunting hound leering at game. All that he needed was the order to feed.

In the walls, more secret doors opened and let in more black robed figures. There were two small ones, twins, like beautiful androgynous cherubs. Some of the figures were female, creatures whose allure was nearly equal with the queasy revulsion they inspired. There was one, a male with a black ponytail, who looked like the earthly personification of all human cruelty.

The creatures came from everywhere, trap doors in the floor opened in the midst of the petrified humans. Some of them fell from doors in the ceiling where they either landed silently as snowflakes or creeped down the walls like gargantuan spiders.

Families held each other, lovers said their goodbyes. Religious folk said their prayers while children averted their eyes. Fiery ones called out, "_Diablos!"_ And they were right, these were devils; devils of the blood drinking variety.

Among their number, only a single man was without fear, and he was no longer fully human. He had his eye on one of the women, the mother of the family who saw his eyes. His hate filled gaze made the woman quake with fear.

At last, from behind the three granite thrones, a last hidden passageway opened. Three figures came with ethereal grace. They were like their minions in that they possessed equal parts alluring beauty and repulsive alien aura. They were also unlike their minions, for their skin was thin and translucent, like that of an onion.

If you looked closely enough, you'd see that their burgundy eyes were clouded over to different degrees. Despite their frail appearance, their movements held no less grace or vitality than those beneath their station.

In contrast, Wesker's footsteps were heavy and his movements were harsh. Like a hawk, he swooped in on the mother and snatched her away from her family. The father tried to take back his wife from the soulless man, but Wesker was brutal. A punch to the man's face completely shattered his skull; instant, bloodless death.

The three children, ages five, six and eight, screamed for their fallen father and abducted mother.

In vain the mother tried to run back to her brood, but Wesker's grip was as unbreakable as the suffocating embrace of a constrictor.

Fury colored his voice as Wesker called to the three brothers, "My lords, I take this woman with your permission!"

Marcus did not react. Aro looked to Caius. Caius's face was stone, then he nodded.

A savage smile split across Wesker's face, as surprising it its appearance as one of the trap doors. Dragging the screaming Spanish housewife behind him, Wesker exited out of one of the trap doors just as the first blood was spilt.

* * *

I hope that you've enjoyed your romp in this neck of the woods. Review and give me your praise, your criticism, your reviews and even your flames. I'd like to thank a few of my steady readers, Lion in the Land, Shallowswan, EZB and Shadow's nightmare. Check out their stories, you'll find it a worthwhile use of time.

Ta

Master of the Boot


	22. Old Friend and New enemy

The Big Hellsing: Chapter Twenty-Two

An old friend and a new enemy

Disclaimer: I do not own the character Elie. Elie belongs to the fine author, Lion in the Land. Hellsing, Twilight and Resident Evil also do not belong to me. Do not sue as I make no profit.

_Forks, Washington State, early morning_

While Alucard was blasting, burning and destroying his way to the sleepy town of Forks, another vampire was visiting the heinously boring town.

Unlike Alucard, she didn't feel the need to blow up rabbits with hand grenades or shoot at little song birds with ridiculously oversized handguns.

She was different from Alucard also in that she didn't get the car she wanted from the rental place in Seattle. Alucard had gotten to ride in a handsome midnight black muscle car while she was stuck in a damn minivan that looked empty without five children in it. On the plus side, it was a gorgeous shade of red.

The lady vampire driving towards the Cullen residence liked the color red because it went along with the image that she cultivated for herself. On her goddess like feet, she came equipped with high stiletto heeled shoes. Really, how could she wear any other shoes?

The Cullens looked like something stepped out of a high fashion magazine. Alucard and all those that were close to him resembled the personal demons of a Japanese manga artist. But this vampire woman, she was something else.

In many ways she was like an underground comic book character made real. Basically, she was unique. As far as you could see, there'd be nothing that could truly copy her look. From her ebony hair with dyed platinum streaks, her heavy eyeliner and divine black dress, she was unique.

At some point she'd considered getting a facial piercing, but because of her species that would be an impossibility. Unstet tissues were permeated with the venom that they used to subdue their prey and kill their enemies. Anything implanted in their tissues for any length of time would be dissolved. A tattoo was also out of the question, needles and rock hard skin didn't mix.

The home of the Cullens was getting near, but the lady vamp was impatient. Minivans were just not built to pull the kinds of speed that she needed. Several times during the drive, she'd considered just ditching the van and running the rest of the way.

But she couldn't do that. If she was going to run at normal speed, fast as some bullets, she couldn't do it with the stiletto heels. She couldn't part with these shoes, not unless she had a pair of runners, which she didn't. Unlike some members of her kind, Elizabeta did not run barefoot. She was Romanian, not a hillbilly.

On the radio, the sound of the Ramones song, _We're a happy family _played. Elizabeta must have been enjoying the song, because she wasn't changing the station.

Ah yes, she was almost at her destination. All that was left to do was drive up the winding driveway and arrive at the front door of the Cullen's home.

With confident steps that crumbled and clicked, Elizabeta sauntered over to the front door of the magnificent home. Next to the door of the home was another door that had been damaged.

The damaged door had a giant hole in it that was the perfect shape of Edward Cullen, the "_eldest child_" of the family. What the hell?

Had Edward lost his vision temporarily and ran right through the door looking for deer? Elizabeta shook her head, she could ask about that later.

Knocking on the large oaken door, Elizabeta was greeted by the familiar sight of Esme, the Cullen matriarch. And she was carrying a massive anti-materiel rifle, a Barret M82. Again, what the hell?

Esme was one of the most boring and over mothering people that Elizabeta knew, what in God's name was she doing with a gun that could blow through two and a half inches of bullet proof glass? However Elizabeta wasn't turned yesterday, she was good enough to keep her confusion to herself.

Esme looked cautiously at the unexpected visitor, "Hello, Elie." Esme secretly disdained Elie, thought that Elie had eyes for Carlisle.

Elie batted her eyelashes innocently, "Hello Esme, lovely day to hauling giant guns around, isn't it?"

Esme smiled, but it was a guarded and insincere smile, "This is something that I need. I don't expect you to understand."

"Try me Esme, I could use a laugh."

Esme's lips turned downwards ever so slightly, the motion would have been invisible to a human.

Elie looked left and right before giving her voice a full tank of sarcasm, "I'm standing. May I _please _come in, mother? I promise I won't do anything you disapprove of."

Esme looked suspiciously at Elie and then gazed down at her rifle. She called over her shoulder, "Carlisle, its Elie!"

The Cullen father figure appeared behind his wife. His smile was reserved, but unlike Esme's it was genuine, "It's good to see you again, Elie."

Elie's smile was also genuine, one of the few of its kind to appear on her face. "Hi, Carlisle."

Carlisle and his wife stepped back, allowing their Romanian guest into the house. Closing the door behind her, Carlisle pulled his old companion into a half hug. He liked Elie, he liked her very much, but the rest of his family had different ideas about the acidic vampire.

Esme's expression turned sour and she promptly moved towards the living room with a sexy-mother walk. In the living room, she put down her fifty caliber rifle with five others of its kind. Next to the rifles were several fifty caliber machineguns and a huge box of special order hand grenades. The only thing that was missing was the ammo.

Elie released her friend from the embrace and asked him a highly personal question, "So Carlisle, what's with all the guns? I thought your wife was just into gardening and Martha Stewart?"

Esme answered for her husband, "We've had a personal tragedy recently."

Elie raised an eyebrow, so this was how they were going to play the game. "A personal tragedy that involves enough firepower to fight a Central American coup? One of us here is acting like an idiot and it's not me."

Esme began to growl and wish that the ordinance had arrived already.

Sensing something very bad about to happen, Carlisle stepped in before things could go south. "Please, let's not fight or insult one another."

At that moment, the situation was totally defused when Emmet barged in. The permanently teenaged vampire was surprised at the presence of Elie. It'd been years since she'd visited the family. But he was not more surprised than Elie was.

She knew a bit about Emmett. He was a great kid and a very nice guy, but he had a brain the size of a walnut. At best he could be described as handsome and goofy. At worst he could be described as a big, dumb behemoth with a face like Barbie's male companion. He took every opportunity to show off his muscles, as if they wouldn't be there tomorrow. So why now was he wearing what was obviously one of Edward's turtleneck sweaters?

Elie once more hid her surprise, "Hey Emmett, you're looking burly today."

Emmett's response was less than suave, "I thought I smelled…er…hi…uh…how've you been?"

The sultry vampiress nodded and put her hands on her hips. With a little imagination, a person could envision her as the Cullen's slutty aunt, which left Alucard to claim the role of deranged uncle on the lam. "I'm fine, Emmett, don't try so hard to look casual."

Rosalie, the wife of Emmett, came in and accidently ran into her husband's broad back.

Upon seeing the blond bombshell, Elie sneered, "Hi, Rose." Elie didn't like Rosalie. Rosalie was a venomous, shallow bitch with absolutely no redeeming values that Elie had seen. She was envious and Elie always believed that envy was an emotion for the weak.

Rosalie held the mistaken belief that the unwanted guest in her home lusted after Emmett. Nothing could have been farther from the truth. Elie would never even consider having physical relations with Emmett. She'd probably make that him cry like a baby. There was no way she could hurt the big galoot.

Rosalie didn't respond, instead she just turned around and dragged her husband away. She also was wearing more clothing than usual. And if Elie wasn't mistaken, there was something red on Rosalie's skin, like a tattoo.

Coinciding with Rosalie and Emmett's departure was the arrival of Edward, the one who had left his mark on the previous door. Elie didn't despise Edward the way she did Rosalie. Edward was merely a wiener.

Honestly, with his outdated speech patterns, arrogant attitude and stupid hair; one would think that he'd taken university courses on how to be a prick.

And that goddamn name, Edward. Couldn't the little dick just shorten it to Ed? With Edward, he sounded like something out of a homoerotic novel. Looked like it too. "Hey Eddie, heard about that stunt you pulled in Italy."

Edward pretended not to hear her comment about Italy, "Greetings, Elizabeta." Edward had a bird's eye view of what Elie thought of him. He also knew that it riled her when he used her full name instead of that asinine nickname.

Elie just kept on going, "You've got a flair for the dramatic. If you want to off yourself, I suggest that you just get on with it. The rest of us have lives to live."

Edward sneered and bared his teeth at her slightly.

Elie was shitting herself with fear. Yeah, right.

Suddenly from the upstairs came Elie's two favorite Cullens, Alice and Jasper. Jasper was approaching cautiously, which he did for everything. Meanwhile, his sprite of a wife bounded down the stairs and virtually jumped into Elizabeta's arms.

Alice adored Elie and Elie more than returned the feeling. Indeed, only Alice Cullen could get away with jumping into Elie's arms. The Romanian vamp spun the smallest Cullen around before gently setting her down. If Edward tried that, she'd have gouged his eyes out.

"You look amazing", Alice said.

"When am I never amazing?" It was purely a rhetorical question.

Jasper's greeting was far more restrained. Normally he had a kind of confident saunter, which was how he walked when not doing elevated speeds. He was like one of those TV cowboys, wary but confident. Now though, the confidence seemed to have been sucked from him. He appeared shaky, well, as shaky as Unstet can be. What the hell had gone on in this house? Esme preparing for a war? Edward putting a giant hole in the old door? Rose and Emmett wearing too much clothes?

Something strange was going on and Elie was going to get to the bottom of it in due course.

Acting normal, Elie inquired of the civil war era vampire, "Hey Jasper, how's your ass?" It was a perfectly innocuous choice of words; Elie had been dying to try out that phrase ever since watching _The Omega Man_.

Upon the uttering of the word "_ass_", Jasper stiffened ever so slightly and a dark cloud seemed to pass over Alice's face. Wait a minute. A dark cloud. Over Alice. What the hell? What the fuck had happened here?

Elie aimed to find out what was going on, but first she was going to have some fun at Edward's expense. "Hey Ed, I heard about your marriage to that human. Generally it's rude to play with your food. But what the hey, go for it." Elie held up two thumbs with red painted nails.

Edward gave Elie an icy glare before saying, "Elizabeta, if you are planning on ending your existence, do so as quickly as possible. I have a life to live." And then he walked away, leaving the hated woman with his adopted parents.

Elie turned to Carlisle, "He's learning."

_Jersey, Soprano Residence_

The home was a beautiful one and large to boot. The back yard was grand and the front yard was exquisite, both were impeccably well tended. The residence was equipped with a swimming pool which saw frequent use by the master of the house.

Inside was filled with fine furniture, large televisions and well stocked pantries. And while it was an ample and expensive house, the place was also tasteful and very welcoming.

It was a far cry from the stately manor inhabited by the Godfather, but then again, Tony Soprano was not the Godfather. In fact, Tony Soprano was about as far from the Godfather as you were going to get.

Shuffling about the kitchen in his white bathrobe, Tony resembled a two legged elephant seal. His sparse hair flew wild, giving him the look of a balding Einstein.

Finally locating a suitable breakfast, the grotesque _Mafiosi_ grabbed a box of sugary cereal and then went limping after the milk.

Sitting himself down with his diabetes inducing breakfast, Tony reached for the remote control and flipped it onto the History Channel. He sighed, today was a repeat of last week's show. They were talking about the Second World War and how various Nazi's had run to pro-fascist countries in South America. It was all very interesting but Tony had already seen it.

With a click of the button, the news came to dominate the TV screen. Apparently they were running a news report about the psychopath that torched the White House.

"_Two day ago, the entire nation was shocked when a mad arsonist set fire to the White House and burned our nation's capital building._" The news anchor seemed genuinely shocked at the events he was reporting.

"_Authorities have not been able to get a clean view of the arsonist's face. If you have any information regarding this dangerous criminal, please call your local police and refrain from approaching this individual as he is considered armed and dangerous._"

"No shit this guy's dangerous", Tony muttered at the TV. Anybody who could burn down the White House despite all of the CIA, FBI and secret service guys had to be as dangerous as hell.

Shoveling another mouthful of mush, sugar and milk into his mouth, Tony listened to the new developments. "_This just in, live from Toms River Township_."

The screen then changed; for a moment Tony thought that he was looking at a bombed out city in Iraq. But not, it was Toms River Township. The place looked as though it'd had the shit kicked out of hit.

A young, foxy reporter stood amidst bombed out buildings, evidence of an enormous fire and just total devastation. "_Thanks Ron, this is Cindy Campbell reporting from Tom's River Township. The entire town is looking like this, it's horrible_."

The anchorman, Ron, asked, "_Can you tell us what happened there?"_

"_Eyewitness reports are sketchy at this point, Ron. The only thing that the town's inhabitants agree on is that a man in red drove into town right before all the destruction occurred. As of now, property damage is estimated to be in the tens of millions of dollars._"

"_Are there any fatalities, Cindy?_"

"_No, Ron. There are some serious injuries, at least three people are in critical condition and dozens of others are wounded in some way but there seems to be no deaths as of yet_."

Ron nodded, "_Thank you, Cindy. According to our latest breakthroughs, at least four other towns in the state of Jersey have suffered the same fate. Irvington, Bayonne and East Orange have been devastated in similar manners. All three towns have suffered catastrophic property damage and in East Orange there have been twelve confirmed deaths._"

The pretty boy reports paused to wipe the sweat from his brow, "_It is uncertain if these mysterious disasters are related to the incident at the White House. Only one thing is certain, the United States is going into the highest state of alert in its entire history_."

Tony finished the last cereal and pondered about the news report. From what he'd seen, either this nutcase had a lot of friends and a lot of bombs, or he was a vampire.

He put the used bowl in the kitchen sink. Vampires, they fucking scared Tony. He sometimes had nightmares about the fang night terrors. But be sure, if any fucking vampire wanted a piece of Tony Soprano's neck, he was going to fucking fight for it.

Ever since Integra's had revealed him the truth about the world, Tony never went anywhere without some silver bullets blessed by a priest of good repute.

If this guy was a vampire, he'd stay away from Tony and his people if he knew what was good for him. Otherwise Tony would personally see to it that this guy became friends with a drill gun that had a blessed bit.

Tony walked down the driveway of his home, clad in boxer shorts, wife beater shirt and white bathrobe. Of course he was wearing a wife beater tank top, what kind of Italian boy wouldn't?

As he went to retrieve the newspaper, it seemed very cold. It was warm outside, the thermometer said so, but for some reason it felt cold. Also, the sun seemed dimmer than it had a moment ago.

A deep, musical voice snaked its way into Tony's ears, "Good morning Tony, did you know that I could hear you getting fatter a few moments ago?"

Tony stood straight, newspaper in hand. When in Alucard's presence, it was best to make no sudden movements. "'Fuck do you want?"

Alucard chuckled from deep in his diaphragm. It was wonderful to be around men like Tony Soprano. To be around men whose thoughts and deeds matched the evil of the vampire. "I need a way to get to Washington . . . the state, not the other thing."

Tony didn't know what to say, "Oh, and I suppose you also want the Holy Grail? Maybe I can fucking get you a piece of the true cross?"

Alucard spoke in a chiding voice, "Don't take that tone with me, fat man. I know what you can and cannot do. I can also offer you payment."

"Payment", Tony was skeptical. He'd seen enough History Channel programs about Vlad the Impaler to know to be careful around Alucard.

"Payment, yes. You get me and my coffin to Washington State and I when I have free time, I will slaughter a group of people of your choosing."

Having Alucard owe you a favor, that could either be very, very good or very, very bad. If he got Alucard to whack somebody, it made him smile to think what Alucard would do.

Tony edged a little closer to the tall Nosferatu, "Well, airport security is going to be tighter than a nun's asshole. But I think I can do something to get you where you're at."

Alucard put a long arm around Tony's wide shoulders, "Good, I like your answer." Alucard might kill Tony in a heartbeat if he felt so inclined. But in that aspect, Tony was much the same, he might also kill for the most trivial reasons. For now though, they'd work towards mutual gain.

Inside the house, Tony's whore of a wife, Carmela, saw her husband enter with a bizarre looking man in horribly outdated red clothes. "Hey Tony, who's this?"

Tony smiled for his wife, "Oh this, this is Dillon. He's going to be staying with us for a few hours. He's got to catch a plane today. I hope that's alright with you?"

Carmela blinked and knew better than to ask about her husband's friends as long as he kept buying her nice stuff, "Sure thing, Dillon can stay. Can I get you anything?"

Alucard flashed his pearly white teeth, "Balkan style yogurt, if you have any."

Carmela held her hands together in dramatic display of concern, "Sorry, we don't. But I was just about to leave to go shopping; I can pick you up some."

Alucard took off his large hat and bowed, "You're an angel."

Carmela giggled slightly at the tall, handsome stranger, stopping only to give her husband a goodbye kiss.

When Carmela was gone, Alucard scowled and pulled off his glasses. "Dillon? That's the best name you can come up with?"

Tony couldn't believe this fucking ingrate. "Would you rather that I have called you Frank Sinatra?"

Alucard pointed an accusing finger, "Let's make one thing clear. When I leave this town, I want to pick my own alias."

"Yeah, sure."

That being said, Alucard threw himself down on the white couch. Unstet never needed to sit down. But Alucard was not Unstet. As a Nosferatu, he greatly enjoyed sitting down. Outside of battle, a Nosferatu might spend hours just sprawling around. This was why a Nosferatu's home was always stocked with all manner of chairs, couches and beds.

Tony began to walk upstairs to change, he called down to Alucard, "If you're hungry we can head down to the Bing."

Alucard made a face, "Tony, I want virgin blood. You know, when you eat a non-virgin, you can taste every person they've had sex with. It's not bad when they've had five or six partners, but I can't even count the number of pricks those girls have sucked on, with _both _pairs of lips!"

"Some of those girls are still virgins."

"Get back to reality, you fool", Alucard scoffed.

"I've got some virgins, but we'd better hurry before that changes."

Alucard thought for a moment and then announced, "Alright, I'll snack on a few of your strippers and then we'll get back here and eat some Balkans style yogurt. I'll leave it to you to get me to Washington." Alucard put his feet on the coffee table, "Now get some clothes on, you're making my skin crawl."

_Volterra, Italy_

Gianna was growing. It wasn't really Gianna, only a clone of her. Even so, she was progressing nicely. Tyrants were without a doubt, the most destructive of all the T-virus mutants. Indeed, that was where the T-virus took its name from; the Tyrant-Virus.

Most humans when infected by the T-virus would become zombies. A zombie that was killed but not shot in the head would mutate into a crimson head. A crimson head killed but not shot in the head would mutate into a licker. But a Tyrant was larger and deadlier than them all.

One in every ten million humans would have the necessary genetic and hormonal conditions necessary to become a Tyrant. It was because of the Tyrants that the former Umbrella Corporation pursued T-virus research with such zeal.

On average, a Tyrant was nine feet tall and impossibly wide. During the transformation, a tidal wave of hormones would sweep the human's body, triggering muscle growth on a fantastic scale. In the course of this mind boggling muscle growth, the heart muscle would grow as well. In virtually all recorded cases of Tyrants the heart grew so large that it protruded through the chest, resembling nothing so much as a giant pulsing tumor.

Another feature common to nearly all Tyrants were the lips, or lack thereof. Due to the necrotic properties of the T-virus, parts of the skin tissue would decay and be used to fuel the body's changes. When growing a Tyrant, the lips were usually surgically removed in order to prevent decay of the gum tissue and teeth roots. This surgical procedure more often than not left the creature with a lipless grin.

So far, the clone was exhibiting all of the desired traits. Muscle and bone growth were proceeding as expected. Localized anti-growth hormones were administered directly to the heart to prevent it from growing through the ribs. Many times in the past, the exposed heart had been exploited as a weakness by various enemies.

Wesker paused to take in Gianna's appearance. She'd been petite as a woman, hardly over a hundred pounds. Currently she weighted somewhere in the neighborhood of three hundred pounds and was almost seven feet. Her breasts had atrophied and like a frog's tail they would eventually vanish.

That was a side effect inherent to all T-virus mutants. Generally the virus caused the complete elimination of sexual characteristics. Already, Gianna's labia was sealing up and her womb and ovaries were being broken down by her body for the protein.

In the face, she was almost completely unchanged. The contrast between her unwomanly body and her feminine face was like artwork to Wesker's eyes.

Averting his hidden eyes, Wesker went back to his typing. As he typed, he heard nothing, smelled nothing, saw nothing except the data in front of him. "You're late."

The man behind Wesker seemed to materialize out of thin air. At Wesker's snide words, he smiled, "I'm late, you're very observant."

Wesker's silence was stony.

The strange new man smirked; he was like a delinquent schoolboy hearing that he's going to get detention. "That's it; you're not interested in hearing how I was able to sneak past thirty vampires?"

Albert shrugged, "You're a druid, that's all the explanation I need."

The man leaned against a table full of fragile experiments, "Alright, now that's out of the way, why don't you tell me where Wesker is?"

The former Umbrella scientist turned away from his computer and looked the other blond in the eye. "Would you mind explaining that last statement to me?"

The man was not impressed, "Wesker, get your ass over here!"

As if on cue, the real Albert Wesker called out. "Bravo my friend, for seeing through the ruse."

The Wesker impostor straightened his coat. "There you have it. My master is here and I am required to be elsewhere."

The real Wesker was clad in a black trench coat, while the doppelganger was fitted with a white lab coat. Down to every other detail they were identical.

The imposter walked up to the true Wesker. Wesker handed his subordinate a small handheld computer and then the other man departed.

Now there remained only true Wesker and the mystery man. Mystery man raised a blond eyebrow, "Who was that? Another clone, or was it just a guy with a fuckload of plastic surgery?"

Wesker's voice was as guarded as any maximum security prison, "That is Maxwell. He works for me and that is all you need to know."

Mystery man's voice was completely irreverent, "That guy's name is Maxwell, like the fucking Iscariot guy?"

"Maxwell is what I refer to him as, so will you."

Mystery man shrugged. He decided to leave Wesker hanging a little bit. The guy was so uptight it wasn't even funny. At random, he picked up one of the more delicate test tubes and begun to spin it between his fingers.

There was something about Wesker's nasal voice that Mystery man just found annoying. He just wanted to give the man a serious bitch slap.

"Please put that down."

Mystery man put it down; he flung it over his shoulder and listened to the twinkle of breaking glass. "What was that, by the way?"

"That was a vampire semen sample."

Mystery man stopped smiling; he gazed down at his hands. "I am going to have to wash my hands. Where's the bathroom?"

Wesker smirked ever so slightly, "I'll direct you to a hand washing facility when you tell me the progress you've made on my little problem."

For once the mysterious man was somber, "I've got the spell that you need. But I'll need to practice it a few times on you to make sure that it works. There's a chance that it will alter your memories permanently."

The man's claims were immediately dismissed by Wesker, "No fear of that, I've also had Dragosani torturing the dead, looking for an answer to my problem."

The mysterious man knew that Wesker was bold, but soliciting help from Dragosani of all people was just moronic. "You realize that any solution he offers is going to involve extreme agony?"

"Of course", he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Nothing that I've gained has been without pain. If I hadn't died at the hands of the proto-Tyrant, then I'd never have been transformed into what you see now."

"Impressive", not really.

Albert ignored the mysterious man and went on, "Look at you, would you be at your current level of power if you hadn't been betrayed as you had? Would you have pushed yourself to learn the long forgotten arts if you hadn't been possessed by the need for revenge? Don't answer right away, please?"

The mysterious man's joking manner was gone. Wesker had touched the rawest nerve of all. Revenge was the sole reason why he was even working with this piece of shit anyways. "I'm going now; I'll just saw a hand washing station right there."

Wesker began where Maxwell left off, "Suit yourself, boy."

Now, the only sounds in the lab were the sound of running water and tapping keys. Over these soft sounds, Wesker called. "I'll meet you one week from now at noon, but not if it is a cloudy day. And also, I'd like for you to meet someone."

Mystery man called out, "Who?"

Wesker smirked, a mere slip of a smile, "I just wanted to you to meet a friend of mind. His name is also Albert."

He waited for a response, but there was none. The mystery man had gone just as suddenly as he had arrived.

"What happened here?" It was Bram, the lowly Volturi foot soldier. Bram had been relegated to the task of being Wesker's manservant. In addition to being a fighter, the slow witted Unstet had an uncanny ability to tell and retell a story, making him the perfect historian. His talent had been put to good use years ago when he wrote the novel _Dracula, _all part of the plan to erase Dracula from the world's collective mind.

Many aspects of the job were unpleasant. Wesker ordered Bram, "I need you to get me another semen sample."

Bram shook his head and begged, "No, please get someone else to do it."

Wesker's eyes shone red behind his sunglasses, "Get me a damn semen sample or I'll tell Jane that you've been spreading rumors about her! And I want you to swim to the Atlantic Ocean and get me some fresh fish, cod preferably. I want all of this completed in one hour, do I make myself clear?"

Dejectedly, Bram nodded his head and went to gather semen and fish.

Yes, Wesker was looking forward to seafood. Bram was not going to enjoy gathering another sample from the captive Nosferatu in the cellar.

* * *

Thank you for reading this and thank you to all the people that have helped me edit this thing. I hope you enjoy reading this and I hope you can tell me how much you liked it in a review. If you didn't like it, tell me anyways. Next up, I'll be working on a little one-shot and then it's back to Terror on Gay Street.

Ta

Master of the Boot


	23. London Hunting

The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair

Chapter Twenty Three: London Hunting

_The Cullen Residence, Forks, Washington_

When becoming a vampire, many qualities are enhanced. In the Unstet, the most notable quality to be enhanced is attractiveness. Unfortunately, while memory is improved, intelligence remains much the same. Emmett's memory, even for an Unstet, wasn't the best. Between serving Rosalie's every whim and teasing his brothers, he hardly had any brain cells to spare.

Elizabeta was interviewing the Cullens for the expressed purpose of learning more about the so called vegetarian lifestyle. Emmett was the last Cullen to be interviewed.

Before starting the interview, he couldn't help but ask, "Who do you work for again? Transylvanian something or other, I think."

Elie explained to the well meaning lad, "No, I work for BITE, the Blood-drinkers Institute of Transylvanian Existence."

Emmett nodded, "That's a lot of words, it's almost like SHIELD in Marvel Comics."

Now it was Elie's turn to look confused, "Who or what is SHIELD?"

Emmett started to display a deal of enthusiasm, "Well, SHIELD stands for-

But Elie cut him off, "Emmett, if it's a comic book thing, just forget I asked."

"You don't like comic books?" Emmett's face fell at the realization. Elie was a wicked cool lady and Emmett liked her a lot, but there were aspects of her personality that he found unsavory.

Elie smiled sympathetically at Emmett, "Sorry, honey, I'm not into anything published after the start of the forties. Tarzan, Doc Savage, The Shadow, those are my kind of heroes. Not any of these overpowered, cape wearing pushovers that don't even use guns."

Things had strayed pleasantly, but Elie had a job to do. But as she was about to ask her first question to the burly boy, the doorbell rung.

From upstairs, Rosalie's bell like voice issued, "Oh Elie, would you get the door?"

Emmett held out his hand, gesturing for Elie not to get up, "I'll get it, just stay put." Emmett began to walk towards the door. He peered into the peephole. Strangely, a look of fear passed over his usually sure face. "Hey, Elie . . . could you answer the door? I've got reasons to be far away."

What the hell? Who could possibly have Emmett of all people this scared? And for that matter, "When'd you get a tattoo?"

Emmett's fear turned into shock, he looked down on the red tattoo that now showed itself on his hand. "I didn't get a tattoo, stop asking about that!"

Against her better instincts, Elie went to answer the door. She was greeted by the most ridiculous sight.

Alucard stood at the Cullen's front door like a towering specter. True to Tony Soprano's word, those strippers had amazingly been virgins. And to avoid creating any more vampires, Tony helped Alucard to behead the two drained girls. Tony seemed to have a sizeable amount of knowledge regarding the removal of heads.

Now, with Tony's aid, Alucard once more found himself in the small town of Forks. Arriving here, he'd demolished cherished American landmarks like the Corn Palace, the Statue of Liberty and wiped out nearly twenty small towns.

Integra said, search and destroy. She never specified what he was or wasn't allowed to destroy. Despite her iron will, Integra Hellsing had a great deal of learning and growing in front of her.

Emmett came to the door and quickly left, Alucard could read his mind and hear his quiet words. Rosalie, who had all the compassion of a piece of spaghetti, had called for somebody named Elie to answer the door.

Alucard didn't know who this Elie person was, but he was going to give them a sight. A sexy looking Romanian Unstet opened the door, clad in a black dress and showcasing bloody red nail polish and lipstick. Here was the kind of woman that could put a man in his place.

Alucard showed Elie his most frightening face. His hair floated and twisted like Medusa's tangles. His eyes glowed red like halogen Halloween lamps. His mouth was a horrid gash cut into his mouth. His teeth were killing weapons that you'd need a license to own. His eyebrows were sexy, chicks dig men with penciled in eyebrows.

Partly he was trying to terrify her and partly he was trying to turn her on with his demonic power.

Elie was amazed, this guy had the worse wardrobe that ever existed and ever would exist. His pants were tucked into his goofy riding boots like some kind of hillbilly. The gigantic felt hat of his could have served as an umbrella for two. That cravat was so ridiculously out of fashion that no one in their right mind would wipe their ass with it, let alone wear it.

Did he think that he was scary? Did he dress like this of his own free will? Or had he fallen asleep and his friends dressed him up like this as a prank?

The fellow was Nosferatu, no mistaking it. But when it comes to Nosferatu, they are attention whores. The best thing you can do, next to killing them, is to simply ignore them. All of them think that they're so hot, but really all of them were just conceited cocksuckers with overinflated egos.

Really, where could you find clothes like this except at the garbage dump?

After thirty seconds of awkward pause, Elie informed the Nosferatu, "Sorry to tell you this, but the butt-pirate parade was last week."

And then she slammed the door in Alucard's face.

_London, England_

The vampire crouched down in the alley over a human victim. A great deal of blood had been spilt all over the ground and the walls of the alley. But the majority of the blood had gone down the vampire's cold throat.

Looking at the creature, one would hardly make a connection between the ethereal Unstet and this filthy, grounded creature. The two species of vampire drank blood, that was their sole similarity.

This creature was one of the Vrykolakas. The name of this species was directly taken from the Greek word for vampire. It was this name by which outsiders referred to them as. If the Vrykolakas had a name for themselves, they told no one.

The Vrykolakas were ugly. They were ugly and they were completely inhuman. Of their human selves, nothing remained except for raw information. The human soul had departed, leaving behind a malicious, aggressive set of instincts.

The vampire which crouched in the alley way was done feeding; it was merely going through the follow up motions. An Unstet's transformation process took three days of fiery pain. The transformation of the Vrykolakas took all of three minutes. Those three minutes were filled with the same volume of pain as an Unstet transformation, but this pain was cold. The person would feel as if their veins were being pumped with liquid nitrogen for three days.

Despite being creatures of instinct primarily, the Vrykolakas were quite logical. They understood the dangers of uncontrolled vampire breeding and so voluntarily took measures to control their growth as a species.

The lone vampire was gnawing off the head of his victim. Nobody heard the sound of a mouthful of needle like teeth rending human flash or the crunch of powerful jaws snapping through a spine like it was hard candy.

With the head removed, the transformation was halted and oblivion had set in.

Suddenly, the vampire jerked its head upwards. The creature's head swiveled this way and that like an eagle, scanning for food or threats. Apparently, there were none of either.

Vrykolakas are ugly, it is physically impossible for them to go among human beings unnoticed. From her sniper's vantage point, Seras Victoria didn't need a scope to see just how hideous these things were.

She'd faced these creatures once before and even now their alien nature repelled her. She'd curled her lip and disgust and called these things, "Monsters."

Alucard had begged to differ, "No, not monsters, merely automatons. They are nothing but flesh and blood automatons. They are living machines that have an objective to which all other goals and ambitions are secondary; to drink human blood."

In fact, their desire for human blood was so singular that there had been those who would use it as leverage to make deals and command them. The Volturi had been known to use them as conscripts during especially nasty battles. When these battles were finished, the Volturi would allow the surviving Vrykolakas free rein to plunder human settlements of choice. This way, entire villages and sometimes even a whole city would be lost in an orgy of mad dog blood lust.

But Alucard wasn't here; he was busy running riot in America. The entire onus lay with Seras Victoria, who had to look at this damn ugly thing like some sideshow attraction.

By his physical features, Seras deduced that the vampire was genetically African. But instead of brown or black, the vampire's complexion was the color of molten lead.

The mouth of the target was the stuff of nightmares. Slightly agape, the jaws showcased multiple rows of needle teeth that looked like they'd been transplanted from the maw of a deep sea creature. But it was the eyes that really got to Seras.

The eyes were completely black, like the eyes of a doll, or a shark. Certainly they looked like shark eyes when you saw them paired up with those cruel teeth.

Another thing that Seras hated about the Vrykolakas was the way they dressed. Usually they just wore whatever clothes they had on when they'd last had a pulse. As time wore on, they would just replace their damaged or worn clothes with whatever they could grab. Without exception, the Vrykolakas looked like they'd dressed themselves while half asleep or drunk.

The comforting voice of Leon Kennedy sounded through Seras headphone, "Batgirl, this is Superman, do you have a sighting on the target? Over."

Despite the circumstances, Seras couldn't help but smirk at their codenames. Originally, the codenames of the Hellsing organization were based off of the novel, _Peter Pan_. The codenames included things such as _Captain Hook_ for Alexander Anderson, _Tigerlilly _for Seras, _Peter Pan_ for Alucard and so on.

Eventually, Alucard had protested to Integra about their current pattern of codenames. "They're an embarrassment, an affront. If we are to move into the twenty first century we need codenames which will strike fear into the hearts of our enemies."

Zohall Mercer had agreed, "He's right, these _Peter Pan _names are bullshit. I mean, come on, _Peter Pan_?"

After much badgering by both Zohall and Alucard, Integra relented. Much to Zohall's disappointment and Alucard's elation, the new codenames were based off of the popular _Batman_ comics.

Alucard's only grievance was that Leon Kennedy assumed the codename after the Last son of Krypton. "Master, Superman is inferior, that codename will bring bad luck down on our heads!"

I the present, Seras responded to Leon's query, "Superman, this is Batgirl, target is in sight and I'm due to lower the curtain. Over."

Gun still trained on the target, Seras spoke into a different channel, "Joker, this is Batgirl, com in. Over."

Zohall's energetic voice greeted her ears, "Batgirl, this is Joker. I hear you. Over."

"Joker, are you and the rogues gallery in position? Over."

Zohall and a number of Hellsing operatives stood to downwind of the creature. In the highly unlikely event that Seras missed, they would make sure that this freak didn't escape. "Joker and the rogues gallery are in position, Batgirl. Over."

"Oh, by the way . . ."

Seras inquired, "What?"

"Why so serious?" Without fail that line always made Seras smile. Her master hated it when Zohall said that. He'd always scowl and say to Zohall, "He only is famous because he's dead."

No more dilly dally, the target was preparing to move. It was only chewing on pieces of the dead body to try and get at any residual blood left in the victim's system. That was when things stared to go wrong.

The Vrykolakas had a very acute sense of smell. The Hellsing soldiers were managing to avoid that sense of smell by wearing experimental ionic vests. The vests functioned to neutralize scents emanating from a human being as well as to make sure that the human being didn't pick up smells from the surrounding environment.

The ionic vests were extremely new and had never been battle tested. Thus far they'd been successful.

The problem was that an innocent bystander was approaching and they didn't have the benefit of an ionic vest.

The vampire dropped the headless corpse. Its jaw was slack and its tongue shot out to taste the air.

Seras cursed, she could sense the approaching human just as well as the beast in the alley. With no further invitation, she squeezed the trigger just as the vampire leapt onto the top of the nearest building.

Thanks to the clairvoyant "third eye" inherent in all Nosferatu, Seras couldn't miss. However, her gun was not perfect. The fifty caliber rifle held the same inaccuracies inherent to all firearms. It was these very inaccuracies which spared the life of the blood hungering monster below.

The massive bullet struck the creature in mid air, knocking him back to the earth. For a human being the damage would have been catastrophic; the bullet had obliterated the heart and disintegrated seven vertebrae, putting the spine in two.

Despite this, the vampire was alive and well and aware of his attackers. The Vrykolakas didn't need their hearts or their spinal cords.

Jerking its head up, the target saw Seras with its empty eyes. It then shrieked a challenge to those that its instincts determined were foes. It was a horrible thing, the shriek that shattered out of the vampire's throat.

It was like the howl of a wounded animal but a thousand times worse. It was a cry specifically designed to intimidate food and foe alike, an unnatural cry. Even at the distance she was, Seras couldn't help but feel a shiver up her spine that froze her trigger finger. This cry was designed to bring up all of your worst memories.

Down on the ground, Zohall and Leon felt like they were back in Raccoon city on the night that Umbrella's deadly creations broke their chains and devoured everything human and wholesome.

And just like that, the cry was over and the beast bolted.

Furious at her own indecision, Seras screamed into her microphone, "The Target is escaping, FIRE! KILL IT!"

Whoever the approaching human was, they were frightened by the sounds of a dozen automatic weapons firing.

The vampire sailed through the air, silver bullets striking but not impeding its trajectory. The Vrykolakas possessed a very primitive nervous system. A result of this was that they were incapable of feeling pain. You could kill them but not hurt them, and they were immune to silver.

Soon the vampire was out of sight of the humans. It landed on the first rooftop and then bounced to the next like a grasshopper.

Seras eyes turned red with fury. She tore off her headphones and chucked her rifle to the side. "Fuck it!" She shouted as she jumped off the roof.

Plunging earthwards, Seras unleashed her shadow arm. Gravity's hold on her weakened and then failed. Using the shadow arm like an airfoil, Seras shot forward like a streak.

Seras shot towards her prey like a bat out of hell. More like a demon out of hell, her fangs were extended and her eyes were red. Her left hand, the normal one, had transformed into a slashing claw which could go through a man's chest like it's made of foam.

The target was not oblivious though, the logical part of its mind had inferred that Seras might be Nosferatu and now that fact was confirmed.

It felt no fear, it wasn't capable of emotion. In the empty, hollowed out recesses of its mind, the vampire understood that it would not be able to beat this adversary under present circumstances.

Its next leap took it into a busy street filled with pedestrians.

Shit.

It was one thing to slay a vampire in a deserted alley way or an empty graveyard. But when vampires fight, they will kill any human bystanders in the area by simple virtue of their superhuman ability. Alucard might have taken pleasure in inflicting collateral damage, but Seras was made of different stuff.

Growling in frustration, Seras hit the ground hard enough to crack the pavement. Reining in her anger, her shadow arm transformed into a black shape like a riot shield. The enemy vampire had only managed to take two running steps through the crowd before Seras was bolting after him.

People shouted, people swore and they went flying as Seras knocked them aside with her riot shield.

The Vrykolakas was much less gentle in its approach. It slashed throats with its gnarled yellow claws and even dared to bite hapless passers by.

Those were bitten had roughly three minutes before they turned. Seras didn't give them three minutes; she made the edge of her riot shield razor sharp and beheaded those who had been bitten.

Office Victoria's mind was full of turmoil. A segment of her soul burned for those slain souls. This might have been a bloodless mission. But carelessness had cost many good people their lives. Alucard was not here to see that the subject had nowhere to run.

But a greater part of her soul was rejoicing. It was rejoicing in the bloodshed, dancing in the shower of blood that this chaos was creating. She was thrilled by the mayhem of her fleeing prey.

This part of her soul, the dark part, seemed very much to be the larger part of her soul. At this very moment, it seemed that the bright, cheery, compassionate Seras Victoria was nothing but a coating of paint on something dark and hideous.

Normally, that hideous thing which composed her soul chose to remain dormant and leave matters to the tiny, compassionate fragment. Now however, the darkness had taken the pilot's seat and it had its own way of handling things.

Sometimes, Seras wondered if she was who she thought she was. Sometimes she wondered, was she really Seras Victoria? Or was Seras Victoria dead, and she was only a vampire that believed herself to be Seras Victoria.

The answer to this question frightened her. Fear pooled in her chest, fear turned into hatred. Hatred was directed towards her target to making her afraid. This fucker was going to get it.

Ignoring the amazed and shocked onlookers, Seras jumped over the heads of the crowd and brought down on the freak her riot shield. The large blunt object struck the freak on the lower leg, tearing off everything below the shin and shattering the bones in the upper leg.

The Vrykolakas could run fast enough to keep up with the world's fastest cars, but Seras was going to enjoy watching how fast one of these freaks could drag himself forward.

The adversary had disabled the vampire's leg. He could no longer run. Instead, he fell forward and started to drag himself at high speed into the nearest building, which happened to be a church.

Seras smiled as she saw her opponent crawl into the church on all fours. With no more humans around, the bright corner of herself would stop complaining. This was going to be fun.

Seras walked through the smashed window where her opponent had entered. Her steps were casual; she wanted to savor this moment. Sending out a mental probe, Seras sensed her enemy's thoughts, or lack thereof. It was going to stay and fight, perfect.

Following her nose, Seras tracked the Vrykolakas foul smell towards the confessional booths. The atmosphere of the church was perfect; all of the lights were out. From the front window came street light. From the rear windows, moonlight shone unfettered. The smell of human sweat was the sweet promise that humans frequented this place and that they would return.

Church icons and symbols which were meant to be comforting took on an altogether different quality. Seras very nature was affecting even the holy nature of this house of God. As she walked deeper into the house of worship, she saw a giant mural of the Virgin Mary with her holiest of holy son.

That mural too took on a different, diabolical look. Mary looked different, her eye teeth were sharp and her eyes were red. To be honest, Mary now closely resembled Seras. Even the image of the pristine Christ was not unaffected. Baby Christ seemed to be a horrid sucking thing, blind but able to smell blood for miles on end.

Smiling, Seras was pleased with how her aura affected this oh so holy place. The newfound similarity between herself and Mary was most satisfying. That would be a good title, The Virgin Seras, the virgin executioner.

She was now fully what her master was; a monster. From one of the confessional booths, she saw a trickle of blood. How nice of him to advertise his presence to her.

Seras tore open the curtain of the confession booth-

-and froze.

Lying there on the floor of the confession booth was a disembodied leg. The son of a bitch had chewed off his damaged leg off to throw Seras off his trail!

Seras sensed movement above her and spun around just in time to intercept the broken end of a wooden cross with her forearm. She screamed as the shape of the cross made her flesh burn.

The fleeing Vrykolakas had gnawed off his useless leg and then hid in the rafters after breaking a wooden cross off of the church wall. When Seras saw the decoy, the vampire had used his remaining leg to push himself off the ceiling and towards his target. The tables had turned.

Seras screamed, at first it sounded human but then it began to sound something like a tortured geological process. The force of her cry shattered the church windows and all the lights. She hardly even noticed it when her attacker bit down on her shoulder and started to pull back and shake his neck from side to side.

An entire section of bone and flesh was ripped from Seras body. Her assailant was unrelenting; his remaining leg kicked, trying to shatter shapely legs, long yellow claws shredded the soft flesh of her breasts to ribbons and the broken end of the cross was stabbed again and again into her body, hurting more than all the other injuries combined.

The cross's bloody end was driven into Seras wide eye and she fell to the floor where her former prey did not let up his attacks. He was like some spastic clockwork machine which pumped up and down into unprotected flesh with claw, tooth and weapon.

Aid came in the form of a blond man in leather jacket and bearing a sword.

BANG!

The sound of a large caliber handgun drowned out the sound of agonized screams and frenzied hissing. The Vrykolakas hand, the one holding the cross, was blown off.

Surprised by the sudden turn of events, the vampire jerked around to get a look at he who would intervene. It saw forest green eyes and something like a flash of silver.

Zohall threw himself across the main room of the church with such speed that he took the enemy vampire off guard. With a slice-

THUP!

-the head of the Vrykolakas was sailing through the air, the face holding the same vacant expression as it held in the perverse existence of unlife.

Still screaming, Seras tore the cross where it lay smoking in her flesh. Then, she curled up on her side and started to weep like she was eight years old.

Huffing and puffing because he'd run twenty blocks at world record speed to get here, Zohall still ran to Seras side.

Unheeding of the danger, he pulled Seras face to his own and looked into her eyes, which had transformed into their accustomed blue. She gasped at the sight of Zohall's vermillion orbs.

There was power behind those eyes of an unknown nature. Alucard also had power behind his eyes, but this was different. The mysterious power inherent in Zohall was approachable; he could relate to you, he could offer comfort.

Zohall wanted to comfort Seras, give her a long and interesting speech about why he thought she was weeping and why she ought to buck up. But damn it all, he was just too winded from the run here.

Seras expression changed, she looked angry. "Zohall, your hand."

Zohall blinked, "Wha'?" Then he saw that he was so tired that he'd accidently put his hand on Seras chest. "Sorry."

Seras nodded, "A second longer and you'd have been short an arm."

"Yeah, I know. How are you feeling?"

How did Seras feel? She felt . . . remarkably good. She'd done what she'd set out to do, the target had been killed and the worst of her violent urges had been appeased. But a nagging voice in the back of her head told her that she'd have to repeat this process again before long, with or without the optional cry. What she needed was a way to control her violent, destructive instincts in a more consistent way than going out and killing stuff.

"I'll live, let's get back with the others."

Side by side, the survivor of Cheddar Village walked with the survivor of Raccoon City. Only one of them had a pulse, but that hardly seemed to matter. The church icons and the big mural were back to normal. Mary and baby Jesus observed the departing couple with their eternally non-judgmental looks.

_Forks, Washington State, Cullen's Front Door_

"Sorry to tell you this, but the butt-pirate parade was last week."

And then she slammed the door in Alucard's face.

That fucking bitch. That fucking bitch! THAT FUCKING BITCH! Who the fuck did she think that she was?

Nobody had every made Alucard so mad, nobody! Not only had she insulted him, but she'd gone so far as to make unfounded insinuations about his sexuality.

Who the fuck did she think he was? He was Alucard, the mightiest of the vampires. Whenever somebody opens a dictionary to look up vampire, they would see Alucard's picture.

He was going to give this girl a piece of his mind. And he began to knock furiously on the door.

Elie slammed the door shut and called for Carlisle. "There's a Nosferatu at the door! Do we have any holy water in this over decorated crap hole?" No offense to Alice, but that girl was obsessed with flowers and other girly crap and it made Elie want to vomit.

Carlisle rushed around the corner and asked her, "Did this Nosferatu wear a big red hat and orange glasses?"

Elie looked confused. What the hell? "How did you know?" Any further questions were interrupted by a knocking at the door.

She opened the door, it was he Nosferatu again, and he looked pissed. Her message to him was to the point, "What are you, deaf? Get lost, you faggot." And then she slammed the door in Alucard's face a second time.

Elie was a little frantic now, "Just grab the holy water, we've got about three seconds before that guy goes completely ape." Ignoring Esme's protest, Elie ripped a board from the hardwood, forming a handy stake.

Alucard burst through the front door like a laser guided missile. The door splintered into a million pieces as he slammed into Elizabeta with enough force to turn a human being into pink mist.

The saucy Romanian vamp and the sadistic and murderous Transylvanian vamp hit the stairs, ruining them completely.

Leering like a complete psychopath, Alucard thrust his grinning visage into Elie's face until their noses almost touched.

Elie was scared out of her mind. Why shouldn't she be? This guy was off his fucking rocker.

Alucard leaned back and craned his fist as if he wanted to drive it right through Elie's face. "Make a fucking wish, because I'm going to split you in half like a turkey collar bone!"

It was at that moment that Carlisle ran up and grabbed Alucard's fist before he could lay down some pain, "Alucard, no, she's a friend!"

Alucard grunted . . . and let Elie go? What the hell? Did Carlisle just call this guy Alucard? As in Alucard, the flunky of the Hellsing family? Now this was perfect. He'd be much more interesting than interviewing Edward.

_Volterra, Italy, Wesker's Room_

Wesker dreamed. Though he was an evil genius, a sadist, an ego maniac and a lover of feta cheese and bacon, his dreams were normal compared to what you might expect. Tonight, he was reliving his favorite sexual fantasy in the dreamscape.

But a strange feeling woke him from the kingdom of Orpheus and he sprung awake, combat shotgun ready to blast away all threats.

Aro sat on the foot of Wesker's bed, smiling like an idiot despite the gun aimed not even a foot from his face. His clouded red eyes took in Wesker's white silk nightshirt and cotton blue nightcap as they clashed in color with his diabolical red slitted eyes.

Wesker had never been more confused in his life, "W-what are you doing here?"

Aro answered in a pert fashion, like a frank school girl, "I was watching you sleep."

Wesker blinked the sleep out of his eyes. "May I ask why?" Wesker's confusion was palpable.

Aro shrugged, "No reason, I just wanted to watch you sleep."

Slowly, Wesker put down the gun on the covers but Aro remained as still as a Greek sculpture. After many seconds of heavy silence, "Would you mind leaving, my lord?"

At this, disappointment danced briefly across Aro's translucent skinned face. "Oh, well, if you wish."

He was gone, but the heaviness was still there. For all his malicious genius, Wesker couldn't unravel why Aro had been watching him sleep. It took him a long time to get back to bed.

* * *

Thanks for tuning in. I'd like to thank all the folks who've reviewed and favorite my works. You people are not only a pleasure to read but you also teach me valuable lessons. Thanks for everything.

Ta

Master of the Boot


	24. Visions and History

The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair

Chapter Twenty-Four: Visions and History

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this story. I only own Simon Ferenczy and no publicly recognized figures. This is a not for profit endeavor. Elie and Father are the intellectual property of Lion in the Land.

_The Mind of Alice Cullen_

_The mind of Alice Cullen was truly an amazing thing. As a human being, she's possessed the power to read the currents and eddies of the future. Even among those who saw beyond the mundane, Mary Alice Brandon had been something special. Upon becoming a vampire and taking the name of Cullen, her amazing ability had only grown in its accuracy and scope. _

_Every second of every day she could see the goings on of the entire world in the briefest of flashes. Most of what she saw was ignored or immediately pushed to the back of her memory. Only events relevant to her family or of her choosing were given any length of time beyond a split second. _

_But the future is a devious thing and loathes to be read. Every choice that a person makes alters the course of the future. Often times, the future would change several times before Alice's mental eyes. And sometimes, no matter how hard she willed it, the future refused to crystallize for her. _

_

* * *

_

She saw two men, gangsters, sitting at a table. One man was tall, big and fat. The other man was shorter and thin. The big, balding man was clearly in charge. She'd seen the big man on television once; he was that crime boss from Jersey.

_Tony said to Ralph, "Where'd you say you got those stolen pieces of art, Ralphie?"_

_Ralph smirked, "It's funny you ask, I was fucking driving to the airport and I stop to say goodbye to a friend. Turns out he had a load of stuff he'd borrowed from some art dealer. And best of all, here's your cut from the sales." Ralph passed Tony a huge wad of money but the gang boss seemed disinterested. _

_Tony's eyes were like chips of ice, "Was this art dealer named Rupert Giles?" _

_Ralphie tried to lie, "Hey Tony, I know better than anybody, Rupert Giles is off limits." _

_Tony didn't say anything. He just looked down at the table before him. He looked at the shiny silverware before him. _

_Shooting forward with remarkable speed, Tony lunged with the knife and stabbed Ralphie in the neck. _

_

* * *

_

Integra Hellsing sat at the counter of the diner with Bella Swan. They seemed to be having a conversation.

"_So far, we have what appears to me to be a series of victimless crimes," Integra's tone was calm and measured. _

_Bella seemed shocked by Integra's nonchalance and pleaded, "What about the toe?"_

_Integra screamed, "FORGET ABOUT THE FUCKING TOE!" and slammed her fist down on the counter. _

_

* * *

_

The next vision she saw was even farther into the future, immeasurable years ahead. In a moonlit clearing stood Alucard and a dhampir with only one eye. Despite his missing eye, the dhampir was beautiful beyond all description.

_Alucard adjusted his black necktie while glaring at the dhampir and brandishing a massive handgun, "D, this is what happens when you FUCK THE SACRED ANCESTOR IN THE ASS!" _

_

* * *

_

Alexander Anderson stood in front of a Japanese schoolgirl, pointing an accusing finger. "Kagome, this is what happens when ye FUCK THE SERVANTS OF THE LORD IN THE ARSE!"

_

* * *

_

Across the void of space and time she heard that call like a common threat. The cry sounded out in a thousand difference voices and languages.

_This. _

_Is. _

_What._

_Happens._

_When._

_You._

_Fuck. _

_A._

_(The next word always was different for each speaker)_

_In._

_The._

_Ass. (Or sometimes Arse.) _

"Alice?" She was shaken out of her trance by Esme's call.

"Coming", and then the pixie like vampire bounced off to meet her adopted mother.

_Cullen Living Room_

Elie had interviewed people more stubborn than this before. Wait, who was she kidding?

Without a doubt, Alucard was the most argumentative, pig headed bastards that she'd ever met. At times he'd sit and pout like a child. Other times, he'd spin confusing riddles, half truths, word games and tongue twisters that would leave even the Riddler scratching his head. He probably had some Wamphyri blood in him.

Alucard hated Elie. Alucard hated Elie because she was a know it all bitch who seemed to be unbothered by everything he could do. She knew all about his powers, everything he'd done, every person he'd tortured and killed, but for all of it she was unimpressed. She refused to give him the gratification he so craved.

For gosh sakes, Integra paid Alucard more attention than this Elie character. She only wanted any interesting answers he had.

The only reason that Elie had been here for so long was because she believed that eventually he would crack and spill his secrets like only a megalomaniac could. Alucard was an aristocrat, his ego was the size of the former Soviet Union, and he expected the world to bend over backwards for him.

Elie decided to try an easy question, "When were you born?"

"Fuck you!"

Elie nodded, "Really? That's fascinating."

Alucard sneered at the sassy Romanian vamp, "You think too highly of yourself. You act like a queen but you're nothing but a low class street walker."

Elizabeta's voice was rich with sarcasm, "Oh thank you, I've been waiting to hear that for years." As if Alucard were one who would talk of whores. Edward might look slightly gay but Alucard looked like he should be singing with the Village People.

Come on, Edward didn't pull his pants up that high, nor did he constantly thrust his hips forward like he wants you sexually.

Elie made a jab at Alucard's pants, "Could you possibly pull your pants up a little higher?"

Alucard stiffened, "What's wrong with my pants?"

"Nothing, except for that fact that they're almost up to your armpits."

He resisted the urge to spit in her eyes, "This is how I like my pants. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you leave before I get violent."

Actually, Alucard was lots of fun. He was so temperamental and volatile, easy to provoke when he can't physically strike out against his tormentors. Basically, Alucard acted like a typical man. But Alucard was far from typical.

"Listen", Elie suggested, "I've got an idea."

Alucard pulled off his hat and glasses, ruby eyes boring into her. "Go on."

Ah, now he wanted to talk, "Let's do a little exchange. I'll answer a question of your for every question of mine that you answer. Does that sound reasonable?"

Eyes burning from behind his mane of tangled black hair, the hardened killer nodded imperceptibly.

Elizabeta smiled, "Alright then, I'll go first. What's your name?"

Alucard puffed out his chest and recited for her, "My current and most fitting name is Alucard. Prior to that, I was known as Count Dracula, King of Vampires. Anteceding that, I was known as Prince Vlad Tepes of Wallachia."

Elie scoffed, "Yeah, and I'm Elvis Presley."

Alucard leaned forward until his nose almost touched hers. "Do you find something funny?"

Elie pulled back but seemed unthreatened, "Everybody knows Dracula is dead, Abraham Van Helsing killed him. I bet you're just using his name to boost your rep."

Alucard screamed, "YOU'RE WRONG! Dracula is not dead, he is me! And if you are just going to laugh at my answers I might as well leave."

Elie pushed him back into his seat gently, "Alright, Dracs, just sit down and I'll listen. I believe it's your turn to ask."

Before he spoke, Alucard took two deep breaths to calm himself down. True, he didn't need to breath but the action was calming none the less. "Who did you say you worked for?"

"I work for BITE. It stands for the Blood Drinkers-

-Institute of Transylvanian Existence. Yes, I know of them. They are the last remnant of the power structure built by Dracula in bygone years." Alucard cut off Elie midway through her sentence.

He added, "BITE, that has to be the stupidest name ever for a vampire organization."

Elie looked at him in much the same fashion as a cynical, apathetic teenager, "I didn't make up the fucking name, I don't wear BITE t-shirts, I just work there, fuckstick."

Elie's sullen attitude made Alucard smirk. He liked it when people got negative. "Now, I believe you have a question for me?"

"Yes I do. How can you be killed?"

Alucard's face went blank, turned confused and then he began to laugh, "HAH-HA! You have the intestinal fortitude to ask me that! I like you, girl, we should screw." His body was shaken by residual laughs.

"I'd sooner die than be fucked by you."

Alucard wagged a finger in Elie's face. "Don't knock it until you've seen THIS!" In one blindingly fast motion, Alucard tore open his shirt to expose his hairy and muscled chest.

The elderly vampire had the ripped chest of a body builder. His pecs stood like those of a god and his abs were so sculpted he made Dragonball Z envious. Covering all of this was a jungle of curly black hair which went from his collar bone to the forbidden zone in his pants.

Alucard grinned suggestively, "You know, baby, I didn't even have to shape shift to get these gifts to women. I died with these. I was the world's first body builder, yessiree. Meat and vegetables every day and plenty of exercise. Now, tell me how much I make your core drip?"

Elie laughed.

She laughed.

The bitch laughed!

The bitch was laughing at him!!

Elie laughed louder and louder. If she had been human, tears would have been leaking out of her eyes. Here this guy was, claiming to be Dracula, the one of the world's great Casanovas. And he was jumping up and down like a virgin high schooler.

Laughing nonstop, Elie called between gasps, "Sorry-but-you're-just . . . so . . . funny. AH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!"

Elie's bell like laughter was cut off when Alucard smacked her across the face with his large, gloved hand. The sound of the slap was similar to that of a gunshot. The blow was just hard enough to sting.

Immediately, Elizabeta's emotions changed gears. Prior, she had dismissed Alucard as a buffoon with illusions of grandeur; she now regarded him as somebody that needed to be put in his place.

Alucard barely had time to blink before Elie had taken the chair she was sitting on and smashed it across his head. He was thrown aside, stunned temporarily.

Enraged, Alucard reached for the Jackal but found it absent. A click alerted him as to where his beloved gun had gone.

Elie strutted forward, her hips weaved and the gun remained steady. Though Alucard's gun must have weighed easily in the neighborhood of seventeen kilos, Elie held it like it was made of plastic.

So, that strike with the chair was only a ruse to keep him from looking at her light hand. This was a clever little minx, which would made it all the more pleasurable when he crushed her utterly.

Elie's voice was level; she sounded like she could kill you and then eat cake afterwards. "Here's how this is going to be done: I'm going to keep this gun. If you piss me off in any way or even breathe too loud, I'll rip this clunky thing to pieces and jam them up your ass. If you want your gun back in one piece, you'll show respect."

Alucard started to hiss, the noise sounded like the release of poison gas on death row. Very quickly, his hissing gave way to laughter. "Sure, Elie, I'll play nice." For now.

Once more, the dance began. "Now Alucard, I want to know, how can you be killed? This question is strictly off the record."

Alucard smirked in a disbelieving fashion, "I've been wondering that myself. I have no idea how I could die. Thus far, the only weakness I've shown is hydrosensitivity but much reduced compared to the rest of my species. If suppose if you threw me into the sun, that might do me in."

Neither person moved. Elie had no need to, she was Unstet, she never needed to blink or fidget. If need be, Elie could stay still for days on end. Alucard was also motionless, but in a different fashion.

He looked like a corpse that had been propped up on the sofa cushions before rigor mortis set in. Only the motion of his eyes and the ever present twitching of his hands distinguished him from a cadaver.

Alucard's lips pulled back and his long, bloated tongue pushed forward, "It is my turn to ask, If I am not mistaken. What is it that BITE does? It has been so long since I've known their activities."

Elie ran a hand through her exquisite locks and elaborated, "While the Volturi are the nearest thing that vampires everywhere have to an actual government, BITE is similar to the English monarchy. We deal with the ceremony and history of vampires. If vampires need information, we're the ones they talk to. We're historians, basically."

"Bullshit."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, all of that is bullshit."

Elie blinked in confusion, "What'd you mean? What are you talking about?"

Alucard jerked himself up, trying to get more comfortable, "All of what you told me is a lie, and you fell for it."

"What? You're crazy; in what way am I lying?"

Alucard jeered, "I know perfectly well what BITE's true mission is. I merely wanted to see how far their lies are believed. You see, you've been lied too, along with most of the low level BITE flunkies."

Many other vampires would have been willing to sit there and listen to Alucard flap his mouth but not Elizabeta, "Are you going to sit there and power trip or am I going to have to make good on my threat."

Elie's interviewee sharply took in breath; he did not want the Jackal to be smashed. "BITE is not a library or an archive, it is a propaganda machine. If the Volturi say that the sky is yellow, BITE writes that the sky is yellow and distributes it to all the vampires along the various channels. If the Volturi say that Dracula is dead, then I guess that Dracula is dead, or is he?"

Again with the Dracula thing. What was it with him and the Dracula thing? There were a half million vampires out there named Alucard; it wasn't like the name meant anything.

Simply because Alucard said it, didn't mean that Elie believed it, "I'm supposed to believe you, why?"

"But you're not; I want you to see for yourself. In your spare time, go and look. Actually read the dreadful garbage that BITE is always printing and then tell me if I'm being crazy."

Elie looked at him, he was crazy. Right or wrong, Alucard must have been dropped on his head while he was a baby and had a mother who sniffed glue during pregnancy.

Whatever, she could deal with all of that later; she had an interview right now to conduct, "Do you have any fledglings?"

"I've made many vampires, many fledglings, but in the last century and more I've only created one. Her name is Seras Victoria."

"Can you describe this woman?" A women with a very strange name.

"Yes, she's short, very chesty and along with Bella Swan she's a runner up for the Idiot of the Year award."

Elie was tempted to laugh, he seemed awfully critical of those two people, whoever this Bella person was.

On the outside he smiled, but on the inside he was seething. This Elie had a unique mind. Her mind was compartmentalized; it was like a warehouse full of unmarked boxes. Throughout the course of the interview, Alucard had been rummaging through each of the unmarked boxes but turned up nothing of use. Even a normal mind would take too long to search completely; Elie's would take exponentially longer.

He needed to trigger something, say an important phrase or else he'd be without any clues on where to search her mind. Alucard fired a shot in the dark since it was his turn to ask a question, "When were you made into what you are?"

An innocent enough question, "I was bitten roughly six hundred years ago but the date is a little fuzzy. Definitely though, I was born before your time."

"That's too bad."

Elie shrugged, "Not really. I know most Romanians think of you as a hero, but you were just mental."

Alucard also shrugged, imitating Elie, "I had my reasons."

"Right then, my turn. Can you tell me about the weapons you use?"

Alucard was more than happy to explain this question, "Well, to start off, I carry two handguns. There is the Hellsing ARMS .454 Casull Auto, that's a beauty. It is twenty nine centimeters long, twelve kilograms in weight and it's all silvery."

He pointed at the gun Elie was holding hostage, "That one you've got there is the Hellsing ARMS 13 mm Auto Anti-Freak Combat Pistol. That baby fires mercury tipped depleted uranium bullets coated in pure Macedonian silver. The silver and mercury makes it effective against my fleshier vampire foes while the depleted uranium gives me the punching power I need when I'm tearing holes in Unstet stone flesh."

Alucard began to button up his coat and shirt as he further elaborated, "Those aren't my only weapons. If there is one thing that Batman has taught me, it's that one must be prepared for any scenario. At any given time I carry with me at least twenty grenades: ten fragmentation with silver coated fragments, five incendiary and five flash bangs. But many times I carry grenades of greater number and variety."

His shirt now fully buttoned, Alucard held open his red duster to reveal a wide range of devices whose purpose Elie could only guess at, "I am also in possession in weapons of my own make, a pressurized gun that fires blesses sulfuric acid, _special_ crossbow bolts designed with Walter's help, a crossbow made from piano parts, a number of homemade bombs modeled after IRA designs, a handheld flamethrower and a grappling gun."

The guy had a grappling gun, he must really love Batman. "You mentioned specialized crossbow bolts, could you elaborate?"

Alucard was only too happy to explain his deadly little arsenal, "I have three kinds of bolt. The first is a simple bolt with a multipurpose tip. When it strikes, the head opens up and releases a mixture of holy water, silver power, iron filings, concentrated garlic extract and essence of wild rose. In spirit, it is a large, steel coated hypodermic needle."

"The next kind of bolt is the explosive kind. All of the bolts I use are steel, gives me better penetrating power. I remove the head of the bolt and replace it with a custom head that is hollow and made from an appropriate anti-vampire materiel. That custom head is then packed tightly with semtex while a detonating mechanism is placed in the shaft. The target has roughly one quarter of a second to rip out the bolt before it goes boom. This proves to be typically difficult since the head is barbed." At this, Alucard smiled at the memory of foes who had laughed at a mere crossbow bolt onto to be blown to bits an instant later.

"Shall I demonstrate for you?"

Elie tried to prevent him, but the gesture was futile, "No, it's really not necessary. You don't have to-"

But Alucard didn't care; he had been itching to use his crossbow for a while now and would not be denied. With reptile grace, he withdrew his improvised weapon.

Elie was expecting a crude, clunky device but was surprised. The piano crossbow was actually a refined, ingenious weapon which sleek and sensuous enough to be featured in a spy movie or novel. The main body of the crossbow had been carved from a square piano leg while the arms were many strips of wood lacquered and steamed together, taken from the underbelly of the piano.

Fitted into carved slots, a complex system of gears and pulleys added to the power of the bow's tension. Only natural, the strongest piano wire served as both the thrusting mechanism and the in-betweens for the gears and pulleys. In places the wire had been braided into cable and in other places it remained hair fine wire. Obviously, Alucard had put a great deal of time into this weapon.

Already set into the groove was a steel bolt, but from its appearance she could not discern what type of bolt this was. Needing virtually no effort, Alucard pulled back the piano wire bowstring into ready position.

Elie was impressed by the fact that the crossbow also featured ironsights made from the carved chips of piano keys. Artfully, Alucard drew a bead on the television, where Emmett was playing the latest videogame.

Emmett was just about to own Skorge when a crossbow bolt slammed into the TV and smashed it into oblivion.

He didn't even get a chance to say, "Aw, man!" when the bolt exploded and blew the two thousand dollar TV to the four corners of the earth. Had he been human, the flying bits of glass, plastic, circuit board and the sheer concussive blast of the semtex would have proven lethal.

Fortunately, Emmett wasn't human and all that suffered was his wardrobe. His shirt was completely shredded and blown off in the explosion. Normally that wouldn't bother him, but when he heard Rosalie scream, "Emmett, your tattoo is showing!" he just ran upstairs to cover it up again.

From their comfortable vantage point, Elie and Alucard watched Emmett run upstairs with speed literally faster than most bullets.

Elie said to Alucard, "When did Emmett get a tattoo?"

Alucard shrugged, "I wasn't aware that the young lad had a tattoo."

"He did and that tattoo looked just like you."

"Really, I missed that little detail."

"You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"Me, no, why would I know anything about that?"

He was playing innocent but Elie didn't buy it for a second. Her cynic's intuition was telling her that Alucard's presence had something to do with the strange changes in the Cullen house. "Never mind, let's get back to our interview. What's the third type of arrow you have?"

The third type of arrow was Alucard's favorite, "The third kind of custom bolt I use is the electric booby trap bolt."

He beamed as he explained the mechanics of his favorite crossbow ammo, "I shoot this kind of arrow into a wall or into the ground. When the bolt hits, a wire fires out from the shaft on a preset angle. The wire flies out and attaches itself to an adjacent surface."

"So when the bolt hits the wall, a wire shoots out from the side."

"So when the bolt hits the wall, a wire shoots out from the side and attaches to a wall." Elie could guess the purpose of the wire but Alucard explained it regardless.

"Flowing between the wire and the bolt is enough energy to kill ten humans. When something touches the wire, all of the electricity is instantly transferred to the victim thanks to a special transformer in the bolt head. A human would be killed instantly while a vampire would be burned and stunned for about ten to twenty seconds."

"That seems a little out of character for you."

Alucard cocked his head, "In what way?"

"Well, I thought you were some kind of brass balled killer, weapons that don't kill don't seem like your stuff."

But how wrong Elie was, "You see my dear Elizabeta, you have misjudged me. You've never smelled the perfume of charred vampire flesh nor seen the twitch of vampire flesh after a few thousand volts of electricity. Truly, nothing is so thrilling as electrocuting a vampire and then spearing them through the heart with your own arm."

"You're sick."

"I may be sick, but it's my turn to ask a question. What is your favorite quote from a book?"

Elie answered truthfully, there seemed to be no harm to that question. "My favorite quote is from the bible, it goes like this, _'__Wash me and I shall be whiter than snow. And after you have punished me, give me back my joy again. Don't keep looking at my sins – erase them from your sight. Create in me a new, clean heart, O God, filled with clean thoughts and right desires. Don't toss me aside, banished forever from your presence. Don't take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me again the joy of your salvation, and make me willing to obey you. Then I will teach your way to other sinners, and they – guilty like me – will repent and return to you.'_"

The recital of that biblical quote caused an image to flash across the eyes of Alucard's psychic probe like a moth. The image of a kindly old man in the garb of the Catholic Church held no meaning for Alucard. Still, Alucard wasn't ready to dismiss that old man; he might have been somebody of significance to Elie.

Personally, Alucard thought that quote from Psalm 51 was a load of shit. It was one of those abysmally cheerful passages about redemption and other horseshit designed to lure in the broken and the needy. Perhaps this sassy Romanian vamp was or had been broken and needy. He'd have to find out with finesse. "That is a lovely quote, where did you hear it? Do you read the bible?"

Elie was tempted to ignore Alucard's line of questioning, but she didn't want to risk him having another tantrum. "I read the bible sometimes, I learned that quote when I was rescued by a friend."

Yes, a friend! That was the kindly old priest, so he was significant to Elie. "Rescued, from the Iscariots?"

Elie laughed, "I could handle the Iscariots with three limbs missing. They're low lives, bullies and murderers. They're better at killing people in turbans and slaying Protestants then they are at hunting vampires."

Elie took the time to ask her own question, "What other weapons do you use?"

On the surface, even Edward wouldn't have been able to read Alucard's frustration. He desperately wanted to know more about Elie and this friend of hers. But he smiled and pretended to be enthusiastic, "My list of weapons goes on forever. I have my hands, my legs and my teeth. You could get hit by a train at high speed and not get a broken nail, but I can hit hard enough to break your spine, knees, and skull, just pick and choose. My teeth and claws can sever your rock hard muscles like fluffy cake. My familiars can swamp you and my with my shape shifting powers I can reform my body to attack you in an infinite number of ways."

Alucard began to make grandiose hand gestures, for in his heart of hearts he was a showman. "I can use anything in my environment and deploy it against you. Stones, logs, discarded bricks, pipes, pieces of furniture, household cleaning products can all be utilized towards your greater demise. I'll use my guns as clubs when I'm out of ammo. If it hurts, I'll use it, if it kills, even better."

He surmised, "The world and everything in it is my weapon." As he said this, he raised his hands high like a TV preacher. "Now, I have a question."

Elie didn't like the look in Alucard's eyes. Edward read people's thoughts continually because the nature of his gift meant that it couldn't just turn off. Alucard read people's thoughts continually because he refused to give anybody privacy. Psychically he was like the invisible man in the ladies locker room. The techniques to guard against Alucard's telepathy were different from guarding from Edward, but Elie focused on strengthening them nonetheless.

"That friend who rescued you, who was he."

An awkward silence hung in the air. Elie debated within her heart whether or not to let Alucard have his answer. "Only if you promise on everything you hold dear that you won't hurt that person or go after them."

Alucard started to form the words when he was cut off.

"I mean it, if you even look at my friend the wrong way, I'll hurt you so bad that you'll cry. I'll make you cry like a baby and then I'll see to it that you're locked in a box, weighed down with lead and sunk to the bottom of the ocean."

Except for when Esme freaked out when she found out that Alucard was peeping on Alice and when he hid Integra's cigars, he's never seen such a hostile female. Hostile women were sexy, Esme was the sexiest. Mothers were sexy. Maybe when he crushed Elizabeta properly, he could go and see through Esme's clothes with his amazing mystic powers. "I swear on the blood of the Hellsing family and before the stars in heaven that if I should ever approach this dear friend of Elizabeta or cause him hurt in any way, I will voluntarily cast myself into the waters of the sea and never rise again nor do harm to any soul in this plane of existence."

To prove he was serious, a long brassy claw tore through the fabric of his glove tip and was used to slice open Alucard's palm.

Elie recognized this. When she and Alucard had been human, such vows before heaven and the angels were not taken lightly. Using her thumbnail, she sliced open her own palm. Quckly, before either of their wounds could regenerate; they pressed their wounded palms together. The deal was sealed.

Alucard's giant, spidery hand and Elie's hard, dainty one pulled apart. "I am owed an answer."

She nodded, "His name is Father Pawel and he saved me when I had given up hope and resigned myself to starvation."

Alucard's eyebrows rose in recognition. Pawel, that was the man's name! He'd hit the jackpot. This had the potential to be the grandfather of all raw nerves. What luck!

Alucard started to laugh. Chuckles vibrated through his cadaverous body.

Elie was a little scared; this is not the reaction that she had expected.

Alucard's laughter grew, turned from chuckles to full fledged howls of hilarity.

Throwing back his head, he rolled left and right on the couch. Suddenly, he stood still and his crimson eyes burned into Elie's burgundy ones. He apologized on his own behalf, "I'm sorry, something was awoken in my memory. Please, ask freely of any questions you might have."

He then lay sideways on the couch and fixed his stare on the stunned Elie.

Elie's mind wasn't on the interview anymore. He knew something and like the curious oysters, she followed her feelings. "Why did you laugh like that?"

Alucard examined his glove tip, now mended. "Me, laugh? Oh, that laughter! Ah yes, I just remembered something. This man, _Pawel_, he wouldn't happen to be Bronislaw Pawel, would he?"

That was a good question, Elie didn't even know Father Pawel's first name. She'd known him and relied on him as a source of spiritual strength for decades but she didn't know his first name.

It really shouldn't be a big deal. He knew what she was but never brought up and didn't care. To her, he was always Father Pawel. That was all she needed to call him by.

Alucard was the very picture of smug; it oozed off of him like a bad smell. He smiled like a killer, "It seems to me that I've thrown you for a bit of a loop. I take it that you're wondering why I know what I do about Father Bronislaw Pawel of the Catholic Church?"

Elie couldn't ask him, the words just wouldn't take flight. Her silence was pleasing to Alucard, she was on the defensive and he would smash her defenses like siege engines to the Castle wall.

"I think that you don't know very much about the man that rescued you. I think that you take it for granted that he is a good man."

Elizabeta snapped out of her funk, "How would you know? You've never met Father Pawel. You're just a sad, distorted freak looking for validation. Well you won't get it from me, I'm not afraid of a dog."

Alucard had been called many things. One time he'd even been called an artist. It offended him to be called a monster. But nobody had ever called him a dog before and under normal circumstances it would have made him go berserk with insult. Right now though, he was willing to let it go because he had the power to hurt her.

"Yes, I am a sad individual. I grin and keep grinning but I'm not as sad as you who needed to be saved by the likes of Bronislaw Pawel."

Elie was confident, a fire burned in her heart, "You've never met Father Pawel. He's the most compassionate man you could ever meet. He'd even find a reason to like you. He is-

"A Nazi collaborator," Alucard cut off Elie with that little tidbit.

"What?" that was the best she could come up with.

Alucard's grin reached its widest. It was a horrid grin, upon looking at it you might think you were staring in the face of some horrifying mask. The gums were a pale pink, the color of stale and diseased gums. From the receded gums the teeth jutted out, all of them replete with pointed tips but the eyeteeth stood out the most.

He went on, "What's the matter, you didn't know that Bronislaw Pawel was a stooge of Hitler's occupation of Poland?"

The fire within Elie's chest shrank; she wanted to believe that Alucard was lying. But what if he wasn't? That was an idea too horrible to contemplate.

"In Poland, the Catholic Church was violently attacked, many of its priests were sent off to the concentration camps. But while some priests resisted the Nazis, others actively collaborated with them. Bronislaw Pawel was a man who made himself useful to the Nazis and therefore avoided a free vacation at Auschwitz or some other unpleasant location."

Alucard sat up, his motion was slow. Previously he had oscillated between sluggish sloth and a kind of maniacal energy usually reserved for anime characters. Now, though, his motions were neither, they were methodical and precise. "You see, he helped them ship the children off to the camps."

If Elie were human, she'd be red as a beet and trembling like a leaf. She wanted to cry and denounce Alucard as the master of liars but for some reason she stood there and listened to him slander the man who was like a father to her.

"After all, who wouldn't trust dear old Bronislaw Pawel? He was such a kind, nice man who had never a bad word to say about a Jew in all his days. People took his word that there weren't any death camps. They believed him when he said that this was only a temporary resettlement."

Alucard had done it; he'd smashed through her walls and was making his way into the courtyard to slaughter all within. "I'm not lying, no matter what you think. What I'm telling you can be found in virtually any adult book on the Nazi Occupation of Poland or the Second World War. Bronislaw Pawel even has his own Wikipedia article. You should verify my claims, if you have the balls for it."

That was it; she couldn't take any more of this. She stood up fast enough to be blur, "This interview is over." The Jackal clattered on the coffee table, Elie had no more use of it.

Mock disappointment washed over Alucard's grim profile, "So soon, I was just getting to the best part of the story. I used my necromancy to speak with the poor, poor children after they'd been burned to ash and used to fertilize a Nazi flower garden. What struck me most was that they weren't mad, just sad that Bronislaw Pawel had betrayed them."

Elie had already turned and was walking out of the room at an inhuman pace. It was in vain that she tried to tune Alucard out.

As he turned to leave the room Alucard stood up and called to her, "Get this through your thick head. I'm not one of the Cullens. I don't drink animal blood, I don't play nice or fair, I don't show mercy and I think that the best way to treat a gal is to break her in half like a toothpick. I'm the villain, I'm the monster!"

Alucard sensed Edward's presence without having to turn his head.

"She didn't deserve that," Edward's voice was velvet.

"Of course she did, that bitch has been walking too long with people that are too polite to speak their minds," Alucard's voice was blood soaked latex.

Edward shook his head, "Nobody deserves what you have to dish out."

Alucard grinned at the Cullen son, "You'd be surprised just how often I dish out my power to the deserving. You're father has made a good impression on me. I usually only break those who deserve it."

Of all the people in this house, Alucard was the only one whose heart was truly made out of stone.

It was then that Alice's bell like voice chimed, "Sunlight alert everybody, today will be sunny all day."

Edward cursed, "Damn, I'm supposed to drive Bella to school tomorrow." He shuddered at the thought of Bella driving that crappy red truck. Seriously, it drove dangerously below the speed limit, taking it out on the highway was out of the question. At the thought of the thing's structural integrity, Edward shuddered. Bella made the mistake of confusing the truck's weight and steel shell with strength. One good knock from an upscale foreign car at two miles per hour and Bella's truck would go the way of humpty dumpty. Honestly, Mike Newton could rip that thing apart without even using a tool.

Bella's dad, Charlie, he might as well have bought Bella a pile of rust.

And the worse part was that Bella would be waking up in only half an hour.

Alucard raised an eyebrow and leaned in closer to Edward, "I'd happily drive Bella to school for you."

Shock was plain on Edward's features, "You? There is no chance in hell that I'd let you anywhere near my Bella. I'm unhappy with the fact that you two are standing on the same planet!"

Alucard put his arm around Edward's shoulders, a gesture that Edward found very uncomfortable, "Don't be that way; I won't do her a bit of damage. I'll handle her like I would an egg."

"No, I've seen your driving, you're demented. You'll forget how fragile she is and she'll get injured or worse."

"Hey, don't insult my driving, everything between the fire hydrants is my territory and I know it like the back of my hand. Just as she has faith in you, you should have faith in me."

Edward did not find it easy to trust Alucard, "I have no reason to trust you."

Alucard knew just what to say, "Look at it this way, son. I'm the most dangerous creature in the world and a murderer to boot. I'm the safest person you could ever hang out with. If anybody so much as looks at your Bella the wrong way, I'll gouge their eyes out. If anybody tries to attack Bella, I'll kick their butts, no charge."

Edward weighed Alucard's words in his mind.

The taller man pressed his argument, "Today, when I was trying to get into town, the US army tried to stop me. I dealt them the most crushing defeat they've had since Vietnam. Now, I if I can take down what must have been the entire US army with one hand tied behind my back, who's to say that I can't keep safe one klutzy girl?"

Edward gestured for Alucard to lean in, which the elder vampire happily complied with. "Mike Newton has been giving Bella a great deal of hostility. He's jealous that she chose me over him."

The Hellsing ace in the hole winked, "Say no more, by six o'clock tomorrow Mike Newton will know the meaning of non-stop agonizing pain."

Edward corrected Alucard, "No, just intimidate him. No torture, no cutting, no mutilation, no shooting and especially no rape, do you understand?"

"Oh alright, I'll tone it down for Mike Newton. Can I scare him so badly that he loses bladder control?" he groaned.

"That would be acceptable."

Alucard rubbed his hands together, "Oh yes, I'm going to have so much fun today, but first I must report to my master. Also, you're going to have to give me instruction to Bella's house and the school. Make the instruction very detailed, I get lost easily."

"I can do that."

"Excellent."

_Volterra, Italy_

Albert Wesker had to pee.

He was a black belt master in three different martial arts types and as a human he had won seven gold medals at prestigious international fighting competitions. He was also a leading man in at least seven fields of scientific study and he was a gifted painter.

However, even evil geniuses have to pee, so Wesker went to the bathroom. When he first came here, the bathrooms in this part of the castle were nothing more than cobweb collectors. With a little effort, Wesker had made the washrooms function again. In addition to his many talents, Albert Wesker was also a skilled plumber.

So he peed, minding his own business and generally not minding much. His genetically modified body was capable of breaking down and recycling solid and liquid waste for indefinite periods of time. Even so, it was far less energy intensive for Wesker to simply release himself in the washroom.

His bladder reached the halfway point when he realized that somebody had stealthily snuck into the bathroom and was standing right next to him.

Wesker looked up from his business and saw Aro. Aro was standing there, smiling like an idiot and trying to look casual.

For reasons that he didn't understand, Wesker suddenly felt uncomfortable. "What are you dong here?"

The papery skinned vampire faked surprise, "Who, me? Oh, I was just walking when I realized that I'd never been in this room before."

The feeling of uneasiness wasn't fading, "Do you have to stand so close to me?"

Aro waved one delicate hand, "I don't see why not."

Schooling his features back into their usual stony expression, Wesker finished, zipped his pants and went to wash his hands. Aro remained where he was.

Wesker left the room and quickened his pace as he went back to work.

* * *

I hope you liked that one boys and girls! I'd like to say for the record that Father Pawel being a Nazi collaborator is my idea alone and has nothing to do with Lion in the Land. I had fun doing this chapter and I honestly hope that you can find it in yourself to review. I'd also like to bring up that Shallowswan's story, The Dawn of Eternity, has been updated. If you like a Vampire Hunter D story that's action packed and thrilling, then this is for you.

Ta

Master of the Boot


	25. How the Civil War was won

The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair

Chapter Twenty-five: How the Civil War was won

Disclaimer: I own none of the publicly registered characters or places in this story. I own only the plot of this story.

Alucard was ready to walk out the door when Edward approached him. The sun was already out and Edward could not go out. Alucard faced no such problems. He neither burned nor sparkled, thus he had the best of both worlds. If he so desired it, he might spend the entire day in direct sunlight and not suffer for it.

Alucard smiled at the approaching teenaged vampire. "Ah, there you are. I wanted to inform you that I'm all set to go and pick up your girlfriend in the timeframe that I quoted. Look here, I've even brought alone items to make her car ride more comfortable and safe."

Edward for the thousand time wished that he could read Alucard's mind. Attempting to read Alucard's mind was like reading a book with pages painted black. "That's very kind of you, but there is something I must tell you."

The elder Nosferatu wasn't paying attention to Edward, "Look here, I've brought along pillows for her comfort, I've brought some puzzles, I've got some juice in the car and I'm even bringing along this fifty pound bag of Barack Obama corn nuts in case she gets hungry."

"I don't want you to drive Bella to school."

Alucard stopped, many things got under his skin, and one of them was people telling him what he could and could not do. "Excuse me?"

"I don't want you anywhere near my Bella."

Alucard dropped his armload of junk and thrust his ugly mug into Edward's personal space. "Give me one good reason that I shouldn't tear you a new one for reneging on what I was promised."

To Edward's credit, he didn't flinch even though Alucard's breath was bad enough to crack stone and melt steel. "I didn't promise you anything, you volunteered. Now I want you to stay away from her.

"What's the matter, junior, afraid that I'll despoil her virginity?"

Edward's eyes were mostly black now from not having fed in many weeks. Staring Alucard straight in the eye, he said, "That is only one of my fears."

Alucard stepped back and laughed. "You're scared that I'll hurt her? That's the best joke I've heard in some time. She'll be safer with me than she will be with you."

Though it would have killed Edward to admit it, Alucard was speaking the truth.

"She is your tu a la cantante. Her blood sings to you like the King of Rock and Roll. To me, she is just another sweet smelling virgin. Every minute she spends with you the risk increases that you'll snap like a rubber band and drain the poor wench."

The adopted son of Carlisle would not be swayed, "I don't care, you're a bad influence and you're a dangerous madman. Besides, I've already called her on the phone and she'll drive herself."

Alucard's eyes widened, egads, he'd been outmaneuvered! "She'll be driving, in the red truck? I thought you hated that thing?"

"Angela Webber is giving her a ride to school this morning."

For a moment, it looked like Alucard was going to have a tantrum. His face screwed up and his fists clenched. By some miracle, Alucard avoided throwing a fit. "All you think about is Bella and yourself. What about me? What about my feelings? Did you ever pause to consider that I wanted to drive her to school because I thought it might be fun."

Edward was taken aback. More than ever before, he wished that he could read Alucard's mind to see if the ancient vampire had dissociative personality disorder. He'd gone from vengeful psychopath to delinquent child in a matter of seconds. And to be honest, he hadn't thought much about Alucard's feelings.

"Well . . . if you want to do something my family and I are going hunting later." Really, it was a rather feeble attempt to pander to Alucard but it was the best Edward could manage.

Alucard scoffed and started to gather up his various items, "Forget it! You've insulted me and I need to go and pout in peace. You can go to hell for all I care. I even tried to be nice to you. I put gas into your car without expecting thanks."

Uh-oh, Alucard trying to help a person, that was a recipe for disaster. "You fueled my car, but it's been in the garage all day."

The Hellsing trump card reached into his jacket and withdrew a jerry can with the President's face on it. "I always keep a tank of gasoline with me just in case."

Edward read the label on the jerry can, "Barack Obama Diesel fuel? You put diesel fuel into my car!"

Alucard frowned in surprise and then read the label for himself, "Oops, well, I wondered why this stuff was so cheap."

Now Edward was mad, "You idiot, you've destroyed my car engine!"

Alucard started to walk out the front door, "Send me a bill, I'm going to hit the town with the force of a hurricane gale. Do you know what your problem is? You're old. Me, I'm young and hip, I've got a spring in my step and a gun in my hand."

As he walked into his black car, Edward screamed from the front door, "ASSHOLE!"

He tossed his gear into the back seat and climbed into the driver's place, "Try being more like me, life will become more bearable for you and your bitch!"

Edward's string of harsh adjectives went unheard as Alucard slammed on the gas and sped down the road.

_South Texas, 1901_

_Once upon a time, Jasper Whitlock had enlisted with the confederate army to battle the aggressive northern forces. Unfortunately for Jasper, he never got a chance to fight the north. He hadn't missed out on anything really great, but he felt bad none the less for never getting a chance to fight for his home. _

_He had fought, just not for the South. Instead he fought for a spider of a woman named Maria. She was the one who turned him, she was the one who commanded him and if she wanted, she could be the one that terminated him. _

_For Jasper, being a vampire was no easy thing. As a human, he had a natural way with people and their emotions, demonstrating a remarkable capacity to bring people together and diffuse the most difficult situations. _

_As a vampire, his talent had grown into so much more. Now he could read emotions beyond what could be seen on a face or heard in a voice. Emotions now were as real as the wind. _

_Jasper found that he could manipulate the emotions of others within a certain radius. But his talent functioned as a machine of give and take. Just as he influenced the emotions of others, so the emotions of others influenced him. When he fed on a human, he felt their hurt, their outrage, their sadness, fear and disappointment. _

_Even though he was gaining something, every feeding felt as if something were leaving him that was more important than the sweet red liquid that fueled his kind. _

_Maria controlled him every hour of his never sleeping life. The lack of sleep was something that he was grateful for. He'd heard stories of war veterans coming down with such demonic nightmares. Still, the life he led was not exactly a bed of Roses. _

_Jasper was Maria's most important asset. His with ability to manipulate emotion and calm down others, he was invaluable for handling the newborns. Supercharged with blood from their human selves, a newborn Unstet was capable of matching a Master level Nosferatu muscle for muscle. _

_Newborn Unstet came with drawbacks. They were irrational and blood crazy. A single newborn could be reasoned with and calmed down like some sort of animal, but the more newborns in one area and the lesser your chances of your controlling them were. _

_Because of his ability, Maria could corral and control a far larger force of newborns than any of her rivals. In spite of or perhaps because of his useful ability, Maria trusted Jasper the least of her lieutenants. _

_Today they would fight and kill as they had been doing for decades. The clues were stingy but from what Jasper had been able to piece together, the vampire wars in the south had begun seventy to eighty years before he'd even been born. Thirty years ago, the nature of the conflict had changed. _

_Thirty years ago the Nosferatu had entered the war. They never announced themselves in a formal declaration of war, one night; they just appeared and started doing what they do best. _

_Ironically enough, it was the tactic of using newborns as weapons which had saved the Unstet covens in the south. A newborn was capable of tearing into a Nosferatu's familiars as easily as tissue paper. This in turn forced the Nosferatu to enter the fight personally, massively reducing the damned creature's probability of survival. _

_Today, Maria had her sights set of a certain village. It was some nowhere village with a population of perhaps a few hundred. A human conqueror would have seen this village and seen nothing worth taking because the people here were so poor. Maria saw the village in a different light. _

_Because of its small population and out of the way location, the Iscariots would not bother with a place like this. The villagers were mostly Mexican and all Catholic, the United States Vampire Hunters would not bother with saving these people. _

_For Maria and her troops, this village was a much welcomed feeding and recruiting ground. Newborns were frighteningly strong, but their mythical strength and ferocity only lasted for one year and then they had to be destroyed. Some of their current batch of newborns were getting a shade old; their crimson eyes would fade into burgundy soon. _

_Maria's voice was like ice, cold and sharp enough to leave wounds, "Jasper, what can you tell me." _

_Jasper's voice was measured and even, "I can't sense a single thing from the village. Either the inhabitants are all gone or they're dead. From closer up I could get a more accurate reading" _

_He could sense Maria's emotional state, she was mad. Her anger was a smoldering affair like a coal mine set ablaze. Days ago, despite everything, their forces had been routed. Of their original fifty newborns, only twenty remained. _

_Maria weighed Jasper's words, "Well, its one hour until sunset right about now. From here there's no sign that one of our kind has been here. We'll move in with the newborns. Vanessa, start burning down the town in case we have any hidden surprises." _

_Vanessa smiled; she loved the work that Maria assigned her. Tall, blond and Nordic, Vanessa was the polar opposite of the short, dark haired, Hispanic Maria. In their capacity for cruelty, both of the women were equally matched. _

_Unlike Jasper, Vanessa lacked a genuine supernatural power. When her heart still beat, Vanessa had been a pyromaniac and one of some skill. For the deaths that she caused, Vanessa might have hung by the neck were it not for Maria's timely intervention. _

_Vanessa loved starting fires, she loved it so much that she wore an elaborate necklace made out of fire starting tools. Becoming a vampire had caused her love of fires and fire related destruction to grow by a factor of ten. She didn't wait for Maria to say anything else, she just zipped off. _

_Maria then looked at her remaining lieutenants, "Antonia, go with Vanessa. Consuela, go with Escobar. Jasper, you're with me." Nothing more needed to be said. Maria and all those under her command had drilled and drilled for scenarios just like this. Every pair knew what they must do and how. _

_Jasper would herd the newborns into town since it was obvious that the place was deserted. In an area full of humans, even Jasper's calming empathy couldn't stop a newborn from killing and draining every living human within reach. _

_The newborns followed Jasper and Maria like a pack of half tamed wolves. Half an hour until sunset. This was a dangerous time. In daytime, a Nosferatu was helpless, forced to sleep in the soil of its homeland and unable to wake no matter how powerful it was. But during the last hour of daylight, a Nosferatu could be woken prematurely from its sleep. _

_If there was a Nosferatu in this town, then it was their prerogative to kill it with as little fuss and struggle as possible. _

_Shuffling. Growls. Rotting teeth and glowing eyes. Ghouls. An entire town's worth of ghouls. Ghouls; pouring out of every building and stepping through every door. Less than twenty four hours ago, these things had been people. Whether they were people or ghouls, Jasper would have killed them either way. _

_At the sight of the ghouls, the newborns began to growl and get agitated. Jasper's calming effect simply couldn't keep up with their heightened aggression. Jasper made ready to jump in and annihilate the ghouls. He could move faster than any modern bullet, these vampire puppets would pose no threat. _

_Maria stopped him, "No, look for the puppeteer. I'll get to work on cutting the puppet's strings." _

_Jasper sensed Maria's emotions. She was feeling exhilaration. It aroused her that she would be killing those that could not defend against her, even if they were only ghouls. _

_The ghouls were armed; they bore various improvised weapons as well as a few more finely crafted firearms. One of the creatures had a six gun and began to fire at Maria. _

_She could have easily dodged the large and (to her) slow moving bullets, but she decided to stand and take them. _

_Bullets hit her in the cheek, chest, arm and thigh. Every single shot fired at her ricocheted off with a spark. The ghoul's aim was poor, the last bullet missed her and she caught it deftly. _

_Dismissively, she tossed the bullet over to Jasper as the ghouls circled in closer. The newborns were almost psychotic with rage. The force of their aggressive feeling was so great that Jasper was actually feeling it himself. He wanted to tear off limbs and bite off heads. Desperate he wanted Maria to give him the order to attack. "Don't wait for me, Jasper. We have less then twenty minutes of sunlight left, put it to good use." _

_A deep growl sounded from Maria's chest and Jasper imitated it. Maria's natural aggression and sadism fed into Jasper's fury. _

_Maria sprinted at the ghouls with all her considerable speed. Her first target was a poor stupid creature that once was a female. It had gotten further from its densely packed companions and growled as it groped blindly forward. _

_Grinning like a madwoman, Maria ran her arm through the ghoul's heart-_

_**BLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!**_

_She shrieked at the ghoul blew up like a human sized firecracker. The force of the blast knocked her backwards and damaged her arm. _

_Jasper was showered with bits of rotted ghoul flesh and chunks of half burned ghouls viscera. The newborns panicked and started to toss themselves at the ghouls who now surrounded Maria like sharks on a seal carcass. _

_In many years of immortal life, Maria had never been as surprised as she was now. Why had the ghoul exploded? _

_The answer was right in front of her eyes. The ghouls around her were staring blankly at her. The dim glow in their eyes was like the dying light of the sun but gave off no warmth. Instead, the ghoul's eyes seemed to suck up warmth and color. _

_Each and every ghoul had fifteen sticks of dynamite strapped to its body. Most of them had the explosives hidden under their torn and dusty clothes but on a few the cloth had pulled back and the red death sticks were visible. _

_Maria looked down briefly at her arm. She didn't eve notice as one of the ghouls started to chew on her bare foot, breaking every single tooth it had. The fingers were mangled and only a thin strip of muscle and tendon attached it to her body. _

_One of the ghouls held a match in its bony hand. Drunkenly, it tried to light the match. Following its cue, a dozen of the other ghouls were attempting the same action. _

_She suddenly became aware of Jasper and the newborns. Jasper had lost control of them, he worn an expression of surprise as if it were his arm that were blown up. The newborns were flying at the ghouls with greater speed than Maria would ever be capable of. _

_One of the newborns made to decimate a ghoul with a powerful but inexpert kick. _

_Maria didn't even get a chance to yell, the first ghoul exploded and then it was a chain reaction. _

_Jasper felt the chain reaction explosion before he heard it. The sound was so loud that no onomatopoeia could have done it justice. There were over a hundred ghouls in the town square, each one bearing between fifteen and twenty sticks of dynamite. _

_At first, Jasper thought that a rain of stones was falling on him, not that it hurt. As he looked up with his ears ringing, he saw that he was being showered in scorched Unstet body parts. Maria herself was probably scattered halfway across this state. _

_He didn't bother himself with the dismembered body parts; those would all sort themselves out as needed. _

_Blessedly, the fact that his companions were dismembered meant that for a little while he could feel his own emotions and not those of peers. From across the town, he felt shock and excitement. The shock must have been Antonia, Consuela and Escobar. The excitement would definitely have been Vanessa seeing the flash of the bombs. _

_Escobar and Consuela must have heard the bomb and jetted into town after checking the outlying areas for the unexpected. _

_Another earth shattering explosion rocked the town, the feelings of shock intensified for a moment and then stopped. It looked like Escobar, Consuela and Antonia must have been blown to smithereens. _

_The excitement was still running like a fever, so Vanessa must have survived the blast as Jasper had. _

_The Whitlock son stood up and assessed the condition of his body. The blast had caused a section of his ribs to cave in and he possessed some minor burns. In summary, Jasper was ready to stake the bastard who had overrun this town. The golden cross around his neck swayed back and forth in the smoke filled wind. _

_Jasper could see across the town, most of the ramshackle wooden buildings had suffered heavy damage or had been knocked down. Seemingly undamaged, the town church stood high above the desolation. _

_It would have been impossible for a human to acquire half of the dynamite that had been detonated today. A vampire on the other hand, would have a much easier time getting his hands on all manner of bombs and guns, if he were so inclined. _

_Vanessa flashed across Jasper's vision. She was like a figure out of a nightmare. Her golden locks had been burned down to the blackened skull. Her clothes were decimated, not that Jasper's clothes had done any better. _

_She giggled like a schoolgirl while leaping too and fro in impossible acrobatics. A torch in either hand was juggled expertly. Vanessa's juggling torches were put to the remaining buildings and any surviving ghouls that managed to drag themselves out from under the ruins. _

_Clouds had obscured the final rays of sunlight. Fires, caused by both the explosions and Vanessa were the only illumination. Columns of smoke snaked high into the sky like charmed cobras. Truly, this place looked like hell. _

_There, from the top of the church bell tower! _

_Human eyes would have missed it, but Jasper saw it, saw him! A figure, perched on top of the broken remains of the church's crucifix, stood and looked at them. _

_The figure wore the uniform of a civil war era Union soldier. The blue uniform sparked a tinge of anger in Jasper that had nothing to do with the anger of others. Overtop the uniform, the Nosferatu had worn a heavy cloak to protect him from the sun and had bandaged up any exposed skin so that only the ruby chips of his eyes were visible. _

_Jasper roared out to Vanessa like a lion rallying the pride. Vanessa came down to earth from a leap, landing on top of the remains of the town doctor's office. Brainsickness and delirium burned in Vanessa's brain and shone out of her eyes. Her growl was a half purr; she anticipated the use of her torches with great glee. _

_Half the town was ablaze by now, proof of Vanessa's special skill. No living person on earth, vampire or human, could coax a flame to life as quickly as she and nobody anywhere could encourage the flame to grown and watch it eat as she did. What Einstein was to physics, Vanessa was to pyromania. _

_The two of them, terrifying as the devil himself, seemed to glide towards the church rather than simply run. Vanessa's face was blackened while Jasper's was full of outrage. Both of them had venom overflowing from their mouths. _

_The shrouded figure atop the church sensed the approach of his enemies and made his move. Like a ghost, he phased through the roof of the house of God. _

_Doors were for human use, Jasper and Vanessa jumped through the modest stained glass window of the church. The two burned, battered and half naked Unstet stood in the center of the church ready for anything life could throw at them. _

_Jasper was thankful for his current state of semi-undress. Nosferatu were lustful creatures. If caught off guard, the beauty of an Unstet could catch them off guard for a fraction of a second. And when vampires fight, a mere millisecond is enough to make the difference between life and death. _

_Jasper and Vanessa seemed to float from their current position. The only sound came from Vanessa's torches. She was very proud of her torches. She'd made them on the fly using only dry tree branches and materiel torn from her skirt. Her sharp teeth had come in handy to sharpen the ends of the torches into razor sharp points. Stake and torch in one tool, some day she would patent such an instrument but today she had a fight to get done. The fires demanded to be let loose. _

_The Nosferatu was here, Jasper could tell that he was close. Looking downwards, he looked back up at Vanessa. She understood him. The emotions were coming from the basement._

_Both of them raised their right foot and slammed them down as hard as they could. The floor of the church gave way and the pair of vampires fell into the basement floor as gently as snowflakes, deadly, bloodthirsty snowflakes. _

_The enemy vampire had been taken off guard, but he hadn't survived nearly forty years of constant warfare by being stupid and slow to react. In his hands he'd held a barrel that strongly smelled of olives. _

_The vampire hurled the barrel at the floor where Jasper and Vanessa stood. Olive oil spread all over the floor, imported by the money of the Vatican. Vanessa's torch threw off a spark and the massive puddle of oil caught ablaze. _

_Jasper and Vanessa threw themselves aside, avoiding anything worse than slightly cooked feet. A second barrel of oil flew out at them, heavy enough that it would have required four men to lift it. _

_He'd been aiming for the torch wielding witch and his aim did not fail him. She caught fire with all the ease of a match. Screaming, she raw outside, never dropping her torches. _

_Now it was just him and the blond male. Long, brass colored claws tore through his gloves. Those claws of his could rend the stone flesh of the Unstet scum as easily as soft cheese. _

_The Unstet launched himself at the Nosferatu. In response, the former Union soldier teleported right behind his adversary. Now, after forty odd years of doing it, teleporting still freaked him out. It was like suddenly you lost your ability to make sense of anything and then you were someplace else. _

_Throwing himself at his foe, he intended to rake his claws across the Unstet's back and shred some essential muscles. To his great surprise, the Unstet's fist shot out behind him and punched right through the Nosferatu's fleshy mid section. _

_It hurt, naturally, but he was not human and his brain did not process pain like a human's did. Any pain not caused by a blessed object could be ignored. The pain from a holy object could be ignored when survival counted on it. _

_Jasper swung around and flung his nemesis at the wall. The brick wall was torn down by the Nosferatu's impact and splashed with blood. _

_He did not pause to admire his strike, that only ever leads to death. He grabbed the golden cross around his neck; the object was the last physical reminder of his human life. He hated that he should only use it to do battle with these ghastly miscreations instead of using it for the prayers that he should be saying. _

_The Nosferatu lay on the ground. He had to be faking it, the Nosferatu's ability to regenerate was legendary and one of their most potent tools. The hole in its stomach was a third of the way healed. _

_Holding the cross before him, Jasper intended to use the holy object to burn the creature. From his belt, he pulled out a wood stake, the perfect device to dispatch a Nosferatu. _

_The Nosferatu waited. Through the disrupted bandages, he saw his beautiful adversary coming at him. He had a cross. He couldn't afford to look at the sacred object for more than a second or his coordination and skill would desert him. _

_Waiting until the last minute, the Nosferatu kicked out with both legs and hit Jasper in the solar plexus. _

_Jasper slammed into the remains of the brick wall and instantly rebounded, but his adversary was no longer present. Moving as silently as the Black Death, Jasper leapt up through the hole in the ceiling and bounced through the roof of the church. _

_The son of Elmer Whitlock looked around for any sign of the Nosferatu, keeping his cross high all the while. The Nosferatu's strength had surprised him, not because of how strong it was, but how weak it was. A Nosferatu usually reached the level of a Master from between five hundred and six hundred years of age. _

_At that time, the Nosferatu's powers and physical strength would explode. Any Nosferatu younger than three hundred years were physically weaker than the Unstet while those in the four hundreds were typically of equal power and speed. This thing can't have been older than a century. A creature that age would be a fledgling and should be under the control of its creator. _

_So, where was the creator? The only way for a fledgling to sever the bond between itself and its master would be for it to surpass the age of one hundred or drink its master's blood. Had this thing drank of its master's blood, or was the Master somewhere here?_

_It did not take long for Jasper to locate his enemy; he was up in the sky. _

_The sun was fifteen minutes to sunset but with clouds this thick it really didn't matter, his powers could bloom fully. The fires had grown now, there was little left to tell strangers that there had been a town here that had been surviving if not thriving. _

_He had no more need of the bandages but they made him look mysterious. In either hand he held the two remaining barrels of olive oil from the church basement. Olive oil fell down from the heavens, spraying all over the dismembered Unstet parts and catching fire. _

_The Nosferatu flew in the sky like he was suspended by balloons. His cape billowed dramatically from his as he strategically fueled the fires to consume his now helpless adversaries. It hadn't been easy to round up all that dynamite, but clearly the effort had paid off. _

_Had he been standing in the latter half of the twentieth century, Jasper might have compared the flight pattern of the Nosferatu as similar to that of a helicopter. Based off of where the olive oil had fallen, most of the newborns would not survive and Escobar, Antonia and Consuela were write-offs. _

_Looking to his right, Jasper saw a giant, mostly intact beam of wood. Despite his lean frame, Jasper could go head to head with a locomotive and win, this seven hundred pound wooden beam was nothing. _

_The flying Nosferatu barely had time to register it as the half burned beam struck him and knocked the half empty barrels of oil out of his grip. He plummeted to the ground like a bird shot by a hunter. _

_Smoke obscured the air; it would have choked and blinded any human. To Jasper's eyes, this hell was as bright as day. Through the miasma, he saw two figures fighting. One of them was the cloak wearing, blue uniformed figure of the Union Nosferatu. The other figure was considerably more horrifying. _

_Vanessa fought the Nosferatu; she felt the kiss of the fire and was still alive. The olive oil fire had burned her skin off as well as a quarter inch of muscle. Her hair was completely gone now, the blackened bone of her skull showed. Her eyelids had also been singed off; her burgundy orbs stared out like they wanted to pop out. Nothing about her marked her as having ever been female or beautiful. Before, she had been a diamond, now she was a piece of coal._

_In Vanessa's hand, she held a crude cross made from two sticks and a piece of her own half burned tendon. As she tried to avoid the Nosferatu's hypnotic gaze, it tried to avoid the sight of her cross. _

_It was making a slash at the blackened and burned enemy when the blond one stuck him and pinned him to the ground. _

_A stake descended towards his heart. The stake went through nothing as Jasper's foe turned into mist. The mist flew out from under Jasper and went through the flames. Unstet could be burned but among the vampire species they were among the least susceptible to it. Their sparkly skin was fire resistant, hence you needed to dismember them or burn them with the aid of an accelerant. _

_The flames licked Jasper briefly but only his clothes suffered damage. Vanessa went screaming after him like a bat out of hell. _

_The Nosferatu was airborne once more. Dive-bombing like a falcon, he struck at the charcoal madwoman. Talons sliced through flesh that was hard as marble and burned like food neglected over the fire. He tore through her spine just below the shoulders. Instead of falling forward like a human, her body stood and started to move of its own accord. _

_Deprived of signals from the brain, Vanessa's body began to move on simple reflex. Clumsy like a ghoul, her rebellious body shambled away from the flames and the heat. Her helpless head roared like a lion and cawed like a crow. _

_Jasper shot through the flames and saw Vanessa. He had shielded his gold cross from the fire with his hands, it was mercifully intact. Unlike Vanessa, he was ready for an aerial attack. _

_His stony fist shot out and struck his bandage covered opponent upside the head. Losing his concentration, the Nosferatu couldn't maintain his dominion over gravity. He landed hard, bones broke, organs ruptured, vessels hemorrhaged, none of it mattered. Nothing short of a stake through the heart or the removal of his head could kill him for good. _

_The bandages looked good but they obscured his vision and were coming undone. Rather than risk tripping over them, he ripped off the bandages and showed his face to Jasper. _

_The Nosferatu was handsome, despite his corpselike complexion; he might easily have any woman he wanted. His hair was brown and his nose was strong. It was the sort of face that you want to immortalize in stone. That face had been immortalized, just not in a good way. _

_For the merest instant, Jasper and the Nosferatu read each other. Jasper scanned his foe's emotions and his foe scanned his thoughts. It was the closest these two could come to getting to know one another. _

_His emotions were interesting, a mix of confidence, cold wariness and . . . despair. He carried within his heart a crippling, undermining despair. It was merely that this dreadful feeling was shunted aside, lost in battle and the fight to prologue life for just one more day. _

_They attacked each other. _

_His enemy turned into mist, teleported and became intangible but Jasper didn't allow his enemy a single strike. His earlier wounds had healed by now, his ribs were complete and his burns from the blast were gone. _

_The Nosferatu's cloak was a useful tool; it concealed his body's position from Jasper and prevented him from utilizing his stake. _

_What happened next was a matter of strategy. Jasper reached out with his emotional power. No mental shields, no matter how strong could block his power. It was an ability that worked purely on the physical body. Jasper reached to the back of the Nosferatu's heart and touched at the little black lump of depression and misery. _

_To his surprise, the little lump exploded, overwhelming all other emotion. His enemy didn't slow down, rather, he sped up. _

_He lunged at Jasper and latched onto his arm. There was no skill in this gesture, only a mad desperation. He began to gnaw on Jasper's arm like his life depended on it. _

_Jasper had truly underestimated the depth of his depression. How long had he lived, how many souls did he have inside of him? He hadn't summoned any of his familiars, at his age he should only be able to summon up twelve or so. Perhaps he was afraid to summon his familiars; perhaps he couldn't face those that he had devoured. _

___As he tore through Jasper's bones and muscles, he spoke into Jasper's mind, "**Kill me. Kill me. Kill me kill me kill me killmekillmekillmekillmekillmeKILLMEKILLMEKILLME . . .**"_

_For the life of him, Jasper couldn't resist wave after wave of crushing hopelessness. He felt all of this anguish and realized that however many years this thing had been undead and how many souls he had inside of him was irrelevant, it was simply too many. _

_Jasper wondered if perhaps this was what lay in store for him, moving through life but not living, waiting to die and being ever denied it. Out of training, he raised his stake for a killing blow. _

_The Nosferatu's body suddenly went rigid. Its fang lined mouth gaped and the long tongue stuck out like a piece of wood. The red eyes glimmered one last time and no more. Before Jasper's very eyes, his enemy turned into dust with nothing but a contented smile on his face. But he hadn't been the one to kill him. It was Maria. _

_Maria did not look well, in fact, she looked pissed. _

_When one states that she looked bad, they didn't mean that her clothes were out of style or her hair was messy. Maria was nothing but a head with some neck and an arm attached. Her only hand was missing two fingers and it was the one she'd used to stake their enemy. It was shameful; they'd killed Nosferatu ten times the age and a hundred times the power of this pitiful thing with half the casualties. _

_Jasper felt Maria's emotions. He sensed anger and satisfaction. Despite everything, Maria felt that she had triumphed. Not in the least was she sad or mournful for those under her command killed. If anything, she was getting off on all of this. _

_She looked at Jasper, a freakish thing gazing on a blond haired specimen of male beauty. With her one hand, Maria pointed over Jasper's shoulder. Vanessa was approaching, her muscles were starting to regenerate and she didn't look so blackened. _

_Maria dragged herself forward like a sideshow attraction. You could have charged people money to see her as she was. She climbed up onto Jasper's shoulder and started to communicate through lip speaking. Maria had no lungs left; they'd been burned when the olive oil started falling from the sky. "I need to feed." _

_Jasper fought revulsion at what was touching him and the emotions that he was reading. Maria was feeding off of all this destruction. She was a vampire in the truest sense. She couldn't just drink blood, she had to spill it and what she couldn't spill or drink she would spoil. _

_Maria was a monster, she couldn't stop and she didn't want too. _

_Seeing the company he kept, the likes of Maria and Vanessa, he wondered if perhaps the day when he would be as depressed and damaged as that Nosferatu wasn't that far off. _

_Maria grinned and lip spoke to Jasper, "We've won, but we must feed and recruit and feed some more. That creature, do you know why it acted that way." _

_Jasper did not know. He and Vanessa began to walk away from the burning ruins. _

_Vanessa responded to Maria's question, "I don't know, why?" Her voice was like glass bells. Her body was a horrific, ruined mess of burned stone and her voice was like glass bells. There was nothing in that sweet, sweet voice to indicate madness. _

"_Their senseless slaughter, their terrible atrocities, it's their way of crying. They're like a bunch of invalids begging to be put out of their misery. And we are here to extend them that misery." _

_With Maria controlling him, Jasper would be denied even that form of release. So for now, it was time to find some more humans and repeat the cycle over and over again forever and ever. _

_He had to get away from these people._

_Modern Day, Quileute Reservation_

Alucard was on an Indian reserve. He was on an Indian reserve. Honest to gosh, an Indian reserve.

A week ago if you'd have told Alucard that next week he'd be on Saturn, fighting the Frankenstein Monster, there'd be a slim chance that he'd believe you.

If you'd told him last week that next week he'd find himself on an Indian reserve, he'd just shoot you for trying to mess with his head.

For real, Alucard hadn't thought that there were any Indians left in America. He thought they'd all been killed by Daniel Boon, Davy Crocket and John Wayne. Seeing living Indians shocked Alucard so much that he forgot all about this morning's outrage.

He raced his 1970 Chevy Nova down the roads of the Quileute land. His vehicle was like black lightening. In his own mind, Alucard wondered what would happen if he showed what he was to the resident Indians.

Most likely they'd all run away, screaming. Then there was the off chance that they'd get down on the ground and worship him like a great white god.

Alucard smiled, that would please him greatly, if it happened. It would be against Integra's orders to reveal himself in such a blatant fashion.

Besides, there was something Alucard wanted to do here. He wanted to find the prettiest Indian women and just _take them around the world_.

Alucard was one of the biggest supporters of interracial sex on this side of the Atlantic. Most vampires preferred to have sex with their own color, but Alucard wasn't most vampires. He'd once told Walter, "Despite how the poets keep raving about alabaster white, I'd go insane if I had to have sex with the same color every time."

To which Walter had responded, "You're already insane, Alucard."

But back to the present, Alucard was a supporter and practitioner of interracial sex. He'd had a whole rainbow of different colored pussy in his time. Now, it would be a pleasure to add red to his color palette.

If a Quileute woman named Emily Uley had any idea that somebody like Alucard was in the neighborhood, she'd be looking to Edward Cullen to supply her with a magical anti-vampire chastity belt.

Yes, hold onto your socks, because Alucard is in town and he no longer has an order to abstain from sex (thank you, Integra!).

Indeed, Alucard is going to be having a lot of fun when the sun goes-oh, an innocent bystander!

Some Indian kid made the mistake of crossing the street when Alucard is behind the wheel. Grinning maniacally, Alucard swerved his car to hit the kid.

Seth Clearwater didn't know what hit him. One minute he was crossing the street and the next minute his legs had been shattered by the bumper of a 1970 Chevrolet Nova. He lay on the ground, screaming in pain. If his sister were here, she'd tell him to stop being such a pussy. Hey, Seth had a right to scream like this.

Hellsing's trump card slammed on the breaks and saw that his victim was still alive but in a large volume of pain. He backed up the car and rolled down the window so he could hear the scream's better.

Alucard looked at the injured Indian kid and smirked like an unrepentant child caught in the act. The kid was tall, maybe just a little bit shorter than Alucard was. He was lanky, but his muscles looked built, that tight T-shirt did an abysmal job of hiding how ripped he was.

Alucard took in more sensory input from the screaming kid. Something was off. The height, the muscles that are big enough to be steroid muscles but aren't, the fact that his face looks seventeen but his body looks thirty one. And his body heat, Alucard could see the heat waves emenating off of him. He must be burning with fever or . . .

No, it couldn't be. Yes, it was, it was one of them. One of the sworn enemies of the vampire! The boy wasn't human, he was-

Alucard jerked up and saw a group of the kid's friends coming over. They all looked pissed.

One of the kids, high school students by the looks of them, went down to try and ask Seth what happened. Another one of them was dialing for an ambulance on their cell phone. The final member of the posse was accusing Alucard, "What the fuck is your problem, asshole! Get out of that fucking car right now!"

Alucard just leaned out of the car's open window and told his new Indian friends, "Pardon me, but permit me to quote a man that speaks the language of the savages." Then, without further delay he gave the Quileutes the raised middle finger and sped away.

Seth by now had managed to stop screaming. In a strained voice, he tried to tell his friends that he'd be okay. They still insisted that he should see a doctor. The local rez doctor would do the job just fine, besides, he wouldn't ask any questions about Seth's high body temperature or other phsyical anomalies.

Whatever happened though, Quileute werewolf or no, Seth was going to look both ways before he crossed the street next time.

* * *

Thanks for reading and reviewing, I'm glad that you could make it. I hope you enjoyed the battle scenes as well as Alucard's drama. If you see any problems with this chapter, please tell me in a review or send me a private message. I'll see what I can do about it. If you have any suggestions or requests, send them to me and I'll see what I can do. A while back somebody gave me a request to see Charlie hopped up on ectasy and humping the TV, that will still happen

Next chapter, Integra has to deal with the consequences of Alucard destroying the US army. If any of my readers is in the US army, don't feel offended. If any of my readers are Native American, don't be offended. I'm working to insult everybody equally in this.

If you have any free time, check out SharkGurl's story, The Elite. You won't regret it.

Ta

Master of the Boot


	26. Hell on Wheels

The Big Hellsing: Chapter Twenty-Six

Hell on Wheels

Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing or Twilight. This story is purely a non-profit venture

_Diary of Arthur Hellsing_

_Ever since I was a young man, I had known what my father did for a living; he killed vampires. As a mere boy, I was ever so proud of my father for this. In my eyes, he seemed so much greater than all the other boys' fathers. I felt as if I were the luckiest boy in the world. _

_Now that I have inherited my father's mantle, I am beginning to understand him more than I ever had previously. Which is why it is such an event of grief that rise to the head of the Hellsing Organization should be caused by the untimely death of my father._

_I had been groomed for years to assume leadership of the Hellsing Organization, it was something I always looked forward too. I find myself faced with irregular hours, seemingly useless mountains of paperwork and worst of all; I am forced to mingle with Alucard. _

_Father drilled very thoroughly into my head what Alucard was capable of, but he failed to instruct me as to Alucard's personality. He is without a doubt the most self absorbed, abrasive, aggravating, apathetic, sadistic, homicidal, wild eyed, inbred, gluttonous son of a whore I've ever laid eyes on. Even a little contact with his abraisive personality is enough to drive me out of my hair. _

_Between the hard work and Alucard's continued company, I find myself contemplating suicide as an option. Perhaps a bullet to the temple would do it. _

_Fortunately, there are solaces to my life. I have found a new friend. A member of parliament named Winston Churchill. Winston has shown me the pleasure that can be found in a bottle of whiskey, in a cigar box and up a woman's skirt. _

_Truly, it isn't much, but when Alucard is taken into account, every little bit of comfort helps. _

_Well, I've gotten all that off my chest. I suppose that now I can talk about happy things. Hugh Islands celebrates his birthday in two weeks. _

_God, I miss my days as a young and carefree Oxford student. _

_Now, Hellsing Headquarters_

Integra sat in front of the TV with her mouth wide open. It wasn't a regular occurrence that Integra watched TV, but this was something that she had to see.

She'd given Alucard very specific orders, "_Search and destroy_" And he'd gone and not only destroyed half of the United States, he'd also single handedly defeated their army.

Integra had given Alucard the worst tongue lashing of his life but it was just in one ear and out the other.

"Master, by myself I was able to defeat the mightiest army in the world. I think that I deserve some sort of recognition for that, maybe a medal or a trophy. A congragulatory cookie would suffice."

Integra was so furious with him that she'd just dropped the phone in mid sentence and smoked an entire box of cigars.

She was just waiting now for the call from the Americans and the ensuing international incident. It was just like Alucard to start a war between America and Britain that led to the end of all life on earth.

Who knew, maybe she would get lucky and the Americans wouldn't think to blame her vampire.

RING! RING!

That was the telephone, normally; Walter would be here to pick it up for her. She'd sent Walter away to try and see what the Queen and the Round table would make of this.

Integra didn't even begin to say hello when General Colt shouted at the top of his lungs, "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!?"

There was no other way to put it; Integra had screwed up big time.

"DON'T YOU HAVE ANY CONTROL OVER THAT VAMPIRE AT ALL?!!!"

Most certainly, Integra didn't feel like the Iron Virgin they painted her out to be. She felt like a thirteen year old tart that's gone out and gotten pregnant because she'd left her rubbers at home.

General Colt had known Integra for a long time. He and Arthur Hellsing went way back. For years, Colt had believed that the Hellsing Organization couldn't have fallen into better hands after Arthur's demise. Now, he wasn't so sure anymore.

"HAVE YOU SEEN THE TV? IT'S ALL OVER EVERY NEWS STATION ON THE PLANET!! THE COVER UP EFFORT IS GOING TO TAKE TEN YEARS OFF OF STANFORD'S LIFE!!!!" Stanford was the leader of the CIA, the pragmatist to Colt the idealist.

On the other end of the line, one of his military aids tried to inform the general, "Sir, the President is on line three."

Colt had no patience right now, not even for the President, "Get the hell out of here!"

Quite honestly, General Colt had no idea how the CIA planned to cover up this incident. How do you explain the sudden destruction of the US military machine to the public? "Tell them God did it." That was General Colt's suggestion. Frankly, it wasn't any better than the stuff that the CIA had suggested.

Integra still didn't know what to say, this was easily the biggest screw up in her otherwise stellar career. There had been disasters and debacles before, the Rio Gun Genocide being the most prominent. But the scale of this latest disaster was unprecedented.

She found herself doing what most people do when they botch it up, she wished things were different. Wouldn't it be so nice if vampires didn't have to be kept a secret and vampire hunters could operate unhindered? Well, no, not really. If Alucard was a publicly known figure some left leaning fool would take him and put him in a prison on the moon. And frankly, Alucard deserved to be imprisoned on the moon.

Colt yelled at her some more but Integra didn't need to hear it. The Iron Maiden already knew what the repercussions were and how she was going to deal with it. Alucard was going to pay for his crimes; Integra would make sure of it. She'd grind Alucard down into a little nub that would beg to be let outside like a whiny dog.

_

* * *

_

Update.

_Status Report: vampire creature designation Alice had been targeted. Based off of extrapolations and psychic probes, vampire Creature designation Alice is not aware of the renewal. _

_Recommend that vampire creature designation Alice be kept monitored at all times. _

_Agreed, scouts will deploy as soon as possible. A full contingent of scouts will be sent to the surface along with one fighter transport, cybernetic spies and the standard package of auxiliary equipment and armaments. _

_Disagree: vampire creature designation Alice must be terminated immediately. _

_Negative: Termination of vampire creature may alert other vampire creatures to our presence. The Hands of God do not wish to expose ourselves at this stage. _

_Concur. _

_New data gathered. _

_Elaborate_

_New information pertaining to vampire creature designation Alucard and organization: designation Millennium. _

_Is this information relevant and useful?_

_Continue._

_The Letztes Battalion is not exterminated as previously believed. They are operating out of the Southwestern continent with the aid of allies as of yet unidentified. More data pending. _

_Millennium's creature to terminate Alucard is still operational?_

_Affirmative, creature is still operating within normal parameters. _

_Creature must be captured and contained in quantum trap. _

_Negative: We wish to keep interference minimal. Rushing or overt boldness will impede the schedule. _

_These are minor difficulties which will be contained and appropriately handled. For now, every thing goes as according to the adjusted schedule. _

_We are the hands of God._

_We are the Hands of God._

_We are the Hands of God. _

_We serve those in control_

_And those in control demand the extinction of those who oppose them. _

_

* * *

_

Forks, Washington, Forks High School

It was awfully nice of Angela to drive Bella to school this morning. Angela was probably the only non-vampire or werewolf friend that Bella had. There was something special about that. Bella found it comforting that in this crazy world of mythical creatures and movie monsters, you could still count on regular old humans to pull through.

Mythical creatures were very interesting, but sometimes it was nice to hang out with normal people. The drive to school provided some brief but very enjoyable bonding time for Angela and Bella.

They were about to drive away but Bella had to use the ladies room first. She'd eaten the school cafeteria food today and it was worse than usual. The school food was starting to give her a case of the runs.

Bella began to jog towards the school and by logical course, the nearest available ladies room. At that point, Bella's otherwise normal day turned one hundred and eighty degrees.

Running across the parking lot to the school, a black car came zooming down the road. To the best of Bella's knowledge, only the Cullens drove that fast and never when there were large numbers of people around. Besides, it couldn't be one of the Cullens; the sun was out in full force.

The driver of the black car drove his car over the curb and into the parking lot. The midnight black muscle car screeched to a halt in front of Bella, avoiding running her over by a hair.

The driver threw open the side door, knocking Bella on her ass. Bella's butt hit the asphalt hard, but being a klutz she was used to that sort of thing.

For a moment, Bella forgot about her case of diarrhea as Alucard stuck his head out of the car and grinned at her. For the entire world, Alucard looked like nothing so much as some freaky anime character drawn by a man with a sick mind. He purred to her in a seductive voice, "Get in."

Bella didn't even get a chance to protest before Alucard grabbed her by the shirt and pulled her into the car. He deftly closed and locked the door behind Bella. Everything was going according to plan.

Alucard's hands moved at lightning speed, putting a seatbelt of Bella and tossing her backpack into the back seat. He even managed to squeeze one of her breasts, but he did it too fast for her to really know what he had done.

The first thing that Bella noticed about Alucard was his height. He'd been seven feet tall when they first met that one brief time. He couldn't be seven feet now because if he was he wouldn't be able to fit into the car.

The first thing that Alucard noticed about Bella was her heart rate, it was increasing. Now, she wasn't aroused or exercising, therefore her raised heartbeat must be due to fear. Fear was good. Alucard was a master of fear and he loved it so.

Bella didn't say anything immediately, Alucard liked that. A normal person would have yowled and protested, but it wouldn't have done a bit of good. Perhaps the girl wasn't as stupid as she'd come across. Crying for help would only have made him horny anyways.

Alucard's full, red lips pulled back to expose teeth as white as Edward's, "So, Isabella, are you ready to go for a ride."

"I can't go with you; I'm supposed to go with Angela Webber."

Alucard chuckled and checked the fuel gauge on his car, yep, still plenty of gas. "A plague on Angela Webbed-foot. You're going to drive with me."

He turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared, "Edward told me to stay away from you, but the day that I take orders from a sparkly pants is the day when I give up blood and drink carrot juice."

Internally, Edward's willingness to keep Bella protected made her smile. However, due to the gravity of the situation, Bella couldn't afford to smile around Alucard lest he mistake it for willingness.

Also, in the department of biology, Bella's lower intestine was protesting today's meatloaf meal. She begged him, "Please, I need to use the bathroom."

Alucard waved her of with one of his big, glove hands. He then adjusted his hat just the way he liked it. He breathed in deeply and then hissed it all out. His gums looked pale and diseased, they made Bella's throat constrict.

Bella tried once more to plead with Alucard; she was going to soil herself soon. "But I need to-"

She got no further as Alucard cut her off. "There are no exits on this flight. In the very likely event of an emergency, just trust me."

The car's engine revved, people were starting to gander at the vehicle and its occupants. They were all under the impression that Bella was going out with Edward, so what was she doing in this 1970 Chevy Nova with that stranger? Was he kidnapping her? Some of the more inquisitive students began to gather around.

Alucard positioned his foot over the accelerator, "Welcome to Alucard's school of driving. Bella, start your screaming!!"

With that, he threw the gear into drive and floored it.

The car's tires screeched and threw up smoke. Bella was thrown backwards by the acceleration and she was thrown into a vehicular nightmare.

Never one to waste any time, Alucard swerved the car to the left, right into a gaggle of Bella's fellow students. Unprepared for such homicidal steering tendencies, the students were knocked down by Alucard's car like bowling pins. The sound of breaking bones under the wheels was music to Alucard's ears.

Bella forgot all bout her intestinal problem and shrieked at the horror before her. "You psycho, we haven't left the parking lot yet and you've already run over seventeen people!!!"

Alucard drew in a hissing breath, hopped up on adrenaline, he was as happy as a kid on Christmas day. He changed the gears and began to drive across the schools' meager field, tearing up the grass and smashing down the chain link fence. "You think that's impressive? You haven't even seen my record!" He began to cackle manically. He was like a Saturday morning cartoon villain, but he was not in the least bit comical.

The normally sleepy streets of Forks were now in a madman's strangle hold of terror. Motorists weren't safe and pedestrians didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell.

The Chevy Nova burned rubber down Main Street, swerving wildly in and out of both lanes.

Inside the car, Bella looked frantically down at the door handles. She wondered how much damage she could sustain if she just threw herself out of the car right now.

In the driver's seat, Alucard was having the time of his life and acting like a lunatic. He laughed, barked, growled and made car noises with his mouth. Alucard threw himself left and right within his seat. His head bobbed up and down like a bird and drool spilled down his chin.

Bella's bowel control was weak enough as it was and the Hellsing Trump Card's driving wasn't helping any. If she died in a car crash, she didn't want to die with filled panties. Of course, she'd rather not die n a car crash at all.

Alucard sped down the middle of the street; other cars were doing everything possible to avoid a head on collision with the five hundred year old lunatic.

As they were about to turn a corner, Alucard spoke to Bella in a voice that sounded like knuckled cracking. "Maybe this is a bad time to mention this, but my driver's license is expired!"

He suddenly turned to the right, cutting across the busy road and going the wrong way at the same time. Dozens of horns beeped at Alucard's driving and Bella's ears were greeted by the sound of cars crashing into buildings and other cars.

As if it wasn't bad enough, Alucard started driving on the sidewalk. He was going to get Bella to her house in record time. Bella was jerked back and forth as the car effortlessly mowed down parking meters and sent the town's solitary newspaper splintering into a million pieces.

By the time that the owner came out from his bathroom break and saw that his newsstand was no longer recognizable but anything except a pile of plastic and twisted aluminum, Alucard was long gone.

Bella's heart was racing now, partly from fear but also partly from the need to poo. She had to go so badly, she was sweating bullets and breathing rapidly.

Ignorant to Bella's plight, Alucard looked at his wristwatch. It was a lovely Rolex, a gift from Carlisle. Alucard meant to pay back his friend for the generous gesture very soon. "Wait, I've still got enough time to zip over to Seven-Eleven and get myself a microwaved burrito!"

Bella shrieked as Alucard suddenly swerved across three lanes of traffic and went onto the main highway out of town.

There wasn't a seven-Eleven in Forks, but there was one in Port Angeles. It was only a short drive to Port Angeles, but with Alucard it was going to be an even shorter drive.

Bella was shifting and fidgeting in her seat, perhaps she could use the bathroom at the seven eleven. Yes, that would be just what the doctor ordered.

Edward always seemed to be relaxed and complacent when he drove, like nothing could bother him. Alucard was nothing like that; he was as hyper as an ADHD afflicted child on speed. Maybe this was what Abraham Van Helsing was talking about when he described Dracula as having a child brain in the book of the same title.

Alucard ignored the road; he drove right onto the grassy barrier and skidded to a halt in the parking lot in front of seven eleven. While stopping, Alucard's car tore down a handicapped parking sign and landed sideways in two handicapped parking lanes.

The convenience store was manned by a single bored clerk. Today was a slow day and he was using the free time to read up on the latest horror novel from Brian Lumley. He didn't even pay attention to the tall, flamboyant guy in red or the girl who looked like she was going to shit herself that walked into the store.

Bella made straight for the bathroom while Alucard made a bee line for the microwave. Fortunately for him, some fool was already pulling out a steaming burrito that looked positively delectable.

The poor bastard just wanted to eat a burrito, but instead he got to eat a knuckle sandwich from a tall mother fucker in red.

Drops of blood flew through the air along with several teeth. Superior reflexes and reaction times allowed Alucard to watch each and every little bit of blood and tooth fly through the air. He could tell you with just a glance the diameter of each blood droplet.

The man lay on the ground, unconscious for the time being and his burrito now in Alucard's hands.

Bella saw the sign for the bathrooms. She went for the first door she saw; she didn't care whether it was a men's room or a ladies room.

Relief was denied for poor Bella; Alucard grabbed her by the shirt and yanked her right out of the store.

When the burrito man woke up he'd be feeling an indescribably amount of pain and find himself with a nasty dentists' bill.

Alucard strode out of the store, utterly ignoring Bella's frantic protests and struggling. Without ceremony, he tossed Bella into the car like she was a piece of luggage. Then, he gave her the superfast seat belt buckling treatment before buckling himself in and starting up the car.

It was funny really, Edward didn't wear a seatbelt but Alucard did. Bella didn't care because she had a very big problem that she was unable to deal with.

Alucard held his burrito in one hand and the steering wheel in the other. With his superhuman speed, he was able to change gears and steer with one hand. Throwing the car into reverse, he slammed the back of his vehicle into another car, resulting in the sound of breaking glass and crumpled metal.

Throwing the car into drive, Alucard drove forwards and put a massive spider web of cracks into the store window, shaking the clerk from his novel.

He backed up once more, crashing into a different car this time.

Once more, tires squealed and rubber burned. Alucard gunned it out of the parking lot and was travelling down the highway far above the speed limit. He was driving so fast that if a cop blinked he'd miss the sight of a black Chevy Nova gunning in the general direction of Forks, Washington.

Alucard bit into his burrito, spraying tasty, gooey filling all over the dashboard. That was alright, he'd clean that up later. The Cullens treated their cars like babies; they polished them, babied them and wasted them. Alucard wasn't afraid to heap a little bit of abuse on his car, that's what cars were built for. Swords got dinted, cars got dented and humans got killed. It was the natural order of things.

Halfway through his second bit of burrito, Alucard noticed Bella's abnormal behavior. Her heartbeat was racing, her skin was flushed and she was sweating. Also, she was wrapping her legs and unwrapping them. This was not behavior related to fear.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'M GOING TO SHIT MYSELF!"

Alucard blinked. Alucard blinked again. "What? Why didn't you go when we were at the Seven-Eleven?"

"I COULDN'T, YOU DRAGGED ME OUT OF THERE BEFORE I COULD SAY A PEEP!" Bella was always a prodigious blusher but now she was red as a beet. "I TOLD YOU I HAD TO USE THE BATHROOM WHEN WE WERE AT SCHOOL!"

The Hellsing vampire began to reach into his jacket, leaving the wheel free of any hands. The car began to swerve dangerously but he reached back and grabbed in time. Reluctantly, he set his burrito down on the dashboard and started to search his pockets with his free hand. "I didn't know you had to crap, I assumed that you were going to powder your nose or some insipid shit like that" he protested.

Bella opened her mouth to reply but she groaned and a growling sound came from the recesses of her belly. She had to go _very_ badly.

Alucard finally found what he was looking for. He pulled out from his jacket a roll of Barack Obama toilet paper and handed it to Bella.

She looked at the roll of toilet wipe with confusion, "What?"

Alucard stopped the car, gentler than before but still, there was the screech of rubber. "I know, putting his face where people's asses go is not the best way to endorse the President, but who knows what went through their minds."

Bella looked around; her shirt was soaked with sweat, "Why are we stopped?"

Before she knew it, Alucard's lightning hands had undone her seatbelt and opened the car door. "Just go on the roadside."

"What are you talking about?"

Alucard stooped in the car to look for his burrito, which had fallen on the ground. "You heard me, go and shit on the highway. You've got toilet paper, what more do you need?"

Bella's mouth opened in shock and despite the circumstances, Alucard found her full lips to be sexy. Having found his burrito, he began to blow the dust and dirt off of it.

Bella was incensed, "What! I am not going to shit on the roadside!"

Alucard swallowed some more unhealthy burrito, "Oh, stop your bellyaching. Just go behind some bushes, do your business and I'll get you home. And if a police car appears on the scene . . . I'll leave you behind and drive away as fast as I can."

Bella bit her lip, trembling, "No, I'll wait until we get to the house."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, just go, now."

In the blink of an eye, Alucard had put the seatbelt on Bella, squeezed her breast without her knowing it and closed the door. He was about to floor it when he asked Bella a question, "When you got into the car, your heart was racing. Was your pulse racing because of your bowel condition or because I terrified you?"

Bella's stomach growled once more, but she managed to give Alucard a brief but honest answer, "You were scary, but it was mostly the diarrhea."

There was growling, but it came from Alucard's throat, not Bella's innards. Miffed, he pulled off his hat and threw it into the back seat. "There is something wrong with you. It's one thing not to be put off by vampires at large, but to not be afraid of me is just wrong. It's against nature."

Bella bit her lip harder, she just wanted to use the bathroom, not sit here and listen to Alucard's egoism. "I was a little scared of you, let's just go, please."

Alucard smiled slightly at Bella's confession, "When you put it that way . . ." He ate the last bit of his burrito, swallowed and drove like Satan was after him.

_Five Minutes later_

Charles "Charlie" Swan drove his police cruiser into the driveway of his humble home on the outskirts of the town of Forks.

Most definitely, things had been looking up as of late for Charlie. His only daughter, Isabella had her life back on track, even though she was with that Cullen boy. She was doing well in school and there was life in her eyes. She didn't do drugs or drink, what more could a father ask?

Still, as of last month, things had turned for the strange. Two odd women from England had appeared and somehow knocked Charlie out through some mysterious means. He'd given their names to everybody as the small Forks Police Department but nothing had turned up. Most likely the women had been using fake names.

Supposedly there was a guest staying at the Cullen residence, but he hadn't seen who or what was staying with them. He didn't know when they'd arrived or when they were leaving. Dr. Cullen had been very tight lipped about their guest's identity and purpose.

And then there was that prank call. Some no-good rat bastard had make Charlie think that Bella was at the hospital with a wooden stake in her vagina after giving oral sex to the Cullen boy. When Charlie had met Bella and Edward at the station that night, he'd been one hairs breadth away from smashing open Edward's head and spilling its contents all over the floor.

Still, Bella had been fine and Edward had graciously forgiven Charlie for his outburst.

Speaking of Bella, she ought to be home from school now with Angela Webber. It was healthy for Bella to spend time with non-Cullen friends.

Charlie's attention was grabbed by the sound of incredibly fast driving; a powerful engine roaring and tired screeching over asphalt. He also heard the sounds of car crashes and twisted metal.

A big, black muscle car went roaring down the road. The vehicle halted jarringly in front of the house before disgorging his red and sweaty daughter.

Before Charlie could get a good look at the driver or the license plate, the car had peeled away.

Charlie tried to get a word in with Bella but she just sprinted past him and said, "Hidadbyedad."

Isabella raced past her father and practically kicked open the front door. She raced upstairs, undoing her belt and kicking off her jeans hurriedly. Finally, when her lower body was clothed only in a pair of pink panties, she reached the bathroom and the object of her desires.

She slammed shut the bathroom door hard enough to shake the house and she found relief.

Charlie didn't have long to ponder Bella's state or who dropped her off because at that moment, the police radio at his belt went off.

The radio scratched out a message, "_Come in, Chief Swan, over!_"

Charlie grabbed the radio hastily and hit the talk button, "This is Chief Swan, what is going on, over?"

"_Chief, we've got twenty five motor vehicle accidents, thirty cases of hit and run and one twelve car pile up!_"

Charlie couldn't believe it, "What the fuck?" Going into police mode, Charlie hit the talk button again, "This is Chief Swan, call for EMS and I will be there at the police station ASAP, over."

He'd wanted to go fishing today, but it looked like he'd have to change his plans.

_Cell phone transcript, The Following Conversation takes place between Integra Hellsing and Vlad "Alucard" Tepes at 7:30 pm. _

_Alucard: Hello, my master. _

_Integra Hellsing: Hello, servant. _

_Alucard: You don't sound angry master, I've obviously been a bad boy, so why aren't you punishing me. _

_Integra Hellsing: You've gone and spat in the faces of virtually the only allies we have in our battle against the living damned. What do you think I'm going to do? _

_Alucard: Oh, I don't know. Perhaps you'll break my fingers, gouge out my eyes, burn me with hot irons and bury me for ten years. _

_Integra Hellsing: No, I'm not going to do any of those things. _

_Alucard: and here I was looking forward to some fun, now that's punishment. _

_Integra Hellsing: Alucard, it's occurred to me that I've been too lenient towards you. You've gone unchecked, like a child that is never disciplined. Alucard, I'm going to break you. _

_Alucard: That sounds terrifying, but don't forget, master, I load the gun, aim the weapon and select a target, but it is you that pulls the trigger. So, in a way, everything stems back to you. _

_Integra Hellsing: Your semantics won't work on me today, Alucard. I will not allow my slave to wrap me about his finger. In two days time a man from the United States government will take you to a military base where you will be transported to England. _

_Alucard: Who do you plan to have stay here and make sure everything is safe? Surely Walter won't be the one, he'd sooner kill the Cullens than spit on them, vegetarian diet be damned. _

_Integra Hellsing: That is my business, your business is to not destroy, vandalize or set fire to anything else while you are in America. Am I making myself clear? _

_Alucard: Crystal, master. _

_Cell phone transcript ends at 7:38 pm. Brought to you by Fidelio Phone Network. _

* * *

Well, thanks for reading and reviewing :D For those of you who were wondering, I took several of Alucard's lines from _Batman Returns_. As for Alucard eating, that will be adressed and explained at a later time. My next piece of work is a request from a friend's daughter, she's had a birthday and it is my gift to her. And don't forgett that I am open to suggestions and reviews if they are reasonable. Alucard will be staying in Forks for two more days, so don't worry, he will have a little more fun.

In the mean time, stay healty.

Ta

Master of the Boot


	27. Interlude Number 1

The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Interlude Number 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, Hellsing or any other registered things.

_Part 1: Meet the Dark King_

_Italy, 1740_

_Carlisle was a funny man. It wasn't that he was a comedian; it's just that he refused to drink the blood of humans. Normally, drinking human blood is not an acceptable behavior for a gentleman, but then again, Carlisle wasn't a man in the strictest sense of the word. _

_He was male; he had a Y chromosome and everything that entails, it's just that he wasn't human. _

_For a full century, he'd walked the earth as an immaculate, unchanging blood drinker. He was Unstet, one of the race of nomadic vampires that feared neither cross nor sunlight. _

_Son of a middle class family, his father had groomed him to take over his position at their humble Anglican Church. Among the duties that his father wished for him to resume after his abdication, was the hunting of the impure souls of the undead and the damned. _

_For many a year, Carlisle's father had zealously pursued all manner of night ghasts, never really bothering to check if they were monsters or simply people at the wrong place at the wrong time. _

_Despite being disturbed at his father's indifference to the loss of innocent lives, young Carlisle assumed charge of his father's small church in the early sixteen forties. _

_A man is what his parents make of him, regardless of how much he boasts that he is his own man. Like the proverbial dutiful son, Carlisle took to the business of hunting the things that go bump in the night. _

_His first encounter with vampires would prove to be the end of what he was. The vampires that he and his flock faced were starved and miserable things, living in the sewers of London. _

_After being bitten by one of the creatures, the twenty-three year old Anglican minister knew that his fate was sealed. For then on, he would always be twenty-three years old until the day he was terminated. _

_A century of searching for his own kind showed mixed results. He found many vampires, but other than drinking blood, these creatures had few similarities to him. Some were almost human while others were mindless monsters. _

_Upon learning of his unique lifestyle, most vampires he met either laughed at him or chased him away as if he were a leper. _

_During his long travels, there were two names that kept on coming up, Volturi and Dracula. Of the Volturi, most were happy to say that they were a powerful coven living in the city of Volterra. Information about the Volturi was hardly difficult to obtain. _

_Dracula, however was a far more enigmatic figure. Of him, Carlisle could find little more than whispers and rumors. Apparently he was from far Eastern Europe and he ruled the lands beyond the Carpathian Mountains. Even the Volturi were reluctant to reveal information to him about the self styled No-Life King. _

_Whatever the case was, if he ever met this Dracula, Carlisle would just politely ask him the truth. _

_Currently, he was running across the Italian coast line. He was taking his time, going at a leisurely thousand feet per second. _

_The sun was bright, the sky was blue; God's glory shone just as Carlisle did. As he ran at his impossible speed, he glittered in the sun like a great diamond. Despite his beauty, his strength and his inhuman mental prowess, the blond vampire did not feel above all that around him. _

_Too many vampires regarded themselves separate or above the mortal world, yet it is the mortal world that feeds the vampire. Without the blood of the human he so despises, the vampire would wither like a rose in winter and join the earth that the human trampled on his daily excursions. _

_Carlisle knew better, though many would call him damned, he considered himself open to salvation and was a strong a Christian man as he'd ever been during human life. _

_Whether he was impervious and immortal or vulnerable and mortal, Carlisle was Carlisle. And he knew it well. _

_Soon however, he would see firsthand how evil and its myriad servants could sully even the most peaceful place, ruin even the most beautiful bubble of happiness. _

_A carriage sped down a mountain road. This was not an ordinary carriage. _

_A team of eight horses pulled the carriage, if you could call these creatures horses. Each beast towing the carriage had the body and legs of a horse, there the similarities ended. Where a professional keeper of horses would have expected to find deep brown eyes, each horse orbs of pure crimson. It was as if each eye had filled with blood and now that blood was partly darkened. _

_Other differences could be found on the heads of the devil horses. Demonic horns stuck out sideways from each animal's head, just below the pointed ears. _

_The carriage had no visible driver, yet the demon horses rode as if their backs were whipped raw. The country moved past the carriage in a blur, the horses panted and drooled, showing off sharp, yellow fangs. _

_Though the carriage was far away, Carlisle could hear the sound of pounding hooves. The shock of the noise jarred him from his contemplative state; whatever it was out there was moving at least as fast as he was. _

_Then he saw it, a massive black carriage hauled by the horse team from hell. It wasn't just a carriage; it was a hearse! What's more, it was speeding for an intercept course. _

_Carlisle had heard many times over the years of the durability of his species, yet he did not know what sort of damage his marble frame might incur with an impact with the black hearse and it's devil horses. _

_Moving as only an Unstet could move, Carlisle swerved to the left and into the dense forest. In response, the horses turned sharply, nearly flipping over the carriage in the process. _

_Carlisle no longer ran at a leisurely pace, he now ran as if his life depended on it. Behind him, the horses towing the carriage ran in a ruler straight line. They smashed down trees and tore apart thickets like they were weeds and cobwebs. _

_Now he was really frightened, the lack of a driver was especially unnerving for him, he might have hailed the man to slow down. This ghoul carriage was an unmeasured quantity which may prove fatal to his immortal constitution. Worse, they were gaining on him, regardless of how fast he moved his lovely feet. _

_Tree trunks splintered into millions of pieces and the earth was poisoned by the blood that dripped from the iron shod feed of the horses, they gained on Carlisle. _

_Whatever force guided the animals caused them to put on a burst of speed and overtake their quarry. _

_The horses panted, strings of drool dripped down their fang filled muzzles. Despite their seemingly tireless nature, the horses were reaching the limits of their endurance. They had been carrying this pace for far longer than Carlisle had and unlike him, they were not incapable of tiring. _

_Sensing the steeds' exhaustion, the unseen driver urged them to a final burst of strength. The carriage exploded forward and defying all laws of physics, turned to cut across Carlisle's path without flipping over. _

_Had this been an ordinary hearse, Carlisle could have slammed right through it at this speed and not missed a beat. But something inside his heart told him that just as these were no ordinary horses, this was not an ordinary carriage. _

_Even if it were a simple construct of wood, paint, silk and canvass, Carlisle could never have smashed into it for fear of causing the inhabitants death. _

_He slammed his heels into the soil of the forest floor. His feet left twin trenches in the earth, with this sort of loose soil he could not stop in time. _

_Sliding forward with virtually no loss of speed, Carlisle's splendid Unstet brain fired into action. _

_With agility to make any acrobat green with envy, he launched himself forward as he slid and sailed in a smooth arc over the carriage. _

_Sparkling like a comet, he flew unperturbed. Catching the top of one of the highest trees, he redirected his energy downwards and struck like a meteorite. His impact shook all the trees for as far as the human eye could see and created a deep crater in the rich loam. Only the hearse and its attendant beasts seemed unaffected by Carlisle's impressive display. _

_Now that he was no longer being chased, Carlisle could act more logically now. In the Unstet mind, the animal instincts are far stronger than in their human counterparts. Like a human, he was more inclined to be logical if he was not threatened. _

_He stood, arms held wide. He didn't know if he was seen by anyone except the infernal horses, all of the carriage windows were boarded up. _

_For what seemed like an eon, nothing happened. All too soon, something did in fact happen. The hearse's side door opened up. Apparently, the owner or owners of the vehicle modified it to perform more like a carriage proper. _

_Two figures stepped out of the transport, followed by a third. The first two figures sparkled in the sunlight like himself. Despite their sparkling skins, they did not look approachable in the least. The Unstet duo looked at Carlisle as if he were filth on the bottom of their foot soles. _

_The third individual to come out was markedly different. He was beautiful enough to pass as an Unstet in poor lighting from a distance, but he did not sparkle and small fangs peeked out the corners of his sneering mouth. _

_The third man was a dhampir, spawn of a human and a Nosferatu. The Volturi considered such creatures vermin and delighted in torturing them and hunting them for sport. The dhampir shielded his face from the sun with his hand, Carlisle was mindful of those claw like fingernails. _

_The two Unstet remained silent; the dhampir was the senior party in this occasion. The dhampir's voice clashed shockingly with his angelic mein. That voice combined aspects of rough sand and a cracking whip. He could tear apart a man as easily with his words as he could with his bare hands. "You have the eyes of gold, are you Carlisle the Deviant?" _

_Carlisle the Deviant? What manner of nickname was that and who had attached it to him? "I am Carlisle, I have been called guest of the Volturi and friend of Aro. Whom addresses me?" _

_The dhampir's response was harsh and sharp, "A deviant such as yourself is not fit to know my name. I come on behalf of Lord Vlad Tepes the III, No-Life King and master of the night and day. My king demands an audience with the golden eyed scholar who holds the lives of humans in such esteem." Humans, he said the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth. _

_Carlisle understood the dhampir's venom. He and his ilk had suffered mightily at the hands of both humans and the Nosferatu, who frequently cannibalized their half blood brood. Dhampirs in turn had inflicted much suffering on the worlds of men and vampires in retaliation for their cursed half lives, forever on the edge of twilight. _

_It was in his best interest not to antagonize the dhampir or his Unstet ensigns. He had seen the men, now he gazed upon the uniforms. Their clothing was characterized by black, with very little red thrown in for relief. _

_The three of them wore long black jackets which brushed against the ground; the dhampir's coat was finer fabric than his subordinates. Each man wore a badge upon his right arm, the badge consisted of a gothic "V" placed overtop an inverted cross with a dragon beneath it. _

_Around his neck, the dhampir wore an amulet. It was a highly stylized eye, carved in some blood red form of amber. In the center of the amber eye there was a small, black spider, frozen for all eternity. _

_The Unstet were unarmed, the dhampir sported a short sword with a jeweled hilt. _

_Well, he had nothing to lose by accepting the invitation of this No-Life King, "I graciously accept your King's invitation." _

_The dhampir snarled, his fangs showed like those of a predatory cat, "King Vlad does not request, he demands. He gave us orders that if you were to refuse in any way, that we should carry you to him in many small pieces." _

_Carlisle tried to chuckle, tried being the operative word, "Well, you'll have no such trouble from me. Lead me where you will." _

_The Unstet were as inexpressive as boulders but the dhampir looked disappointed, he was looking forward to take out his frustrations on this kindly, blond haired vampire. The dhampir was also blond, but his hair was not nearly as luxurious as Carlisle's hair, it made him a bit jealous. _

_Carlisle went first, the blond dhampir had no intention of taking a stake to the heart. This way, if the deviant started any trouble, he could twist off his head at a moment's notice. _

_

* * *

_

It was dark inside the carriage, Carlisle could barely see, and that was saying something. He could read a book from two miles away with only the light of the stars to illuminate the page. Yet, he could hardly make out any of the dhampir's features except for his deep, brown eyes.

_The two Unstet under the dhampir's command made no noise, silent as boulders were they. _

_To pass the time, Carlisle began to count the minutes and the seconds. His mind was more accurate than any modern clock; the ride lasted precisely seven and one half hours. It was the longest set of hours in his unlife. It was something about the hostile demeanor of his compatriots which seemed to make the seconds crawl instead of leap. _

_Back in the stronghold of the Volturi, the guards had always been impassive and impersonal. But Carlisle couldn't really compare the Volturi guard to these men. The Unstet looked at him as if he weren't there while the dhampir reserved looks of utmost naked hatred for him. _

_The sound of the demon horses running halted, Carlisle heard this, but the dhampir felt it necessary to state that they'd stopped. His two underlings made no notice that they'd heard him. _

_Even though it was impossible for Carlisle to feel cramps, soreness or any kind of discomfort save from a physical wound, it was good to be up and walking again. _

_The first thing that struck him was the moon, like he'd never seen it before. It was massive, and red. It hung in the sky like a great, glowing bloodstain, casting a rusty light on everything. The light thrown off by the moon made Carlisle feel uneasy. It seemed that the air was thick with violence to be done. All it needed was a spark, a little push. _

_The dhampir now seemed at ease in the blood red moonlight. He sucked in a deep breath of the crisp night air and exhaled gently through his well formed nose. He spoke to his hostage, "This way." He pointed towards a trail in the forest. _

_Carlisle couldn't pinpoint exactly where they were, but he wasn't in Italy any longer. This was an old forest, twisted and overgrown. On all sides of the valley they stood in, mighty mountains stood guard. Was this the land of the Carpathian Mountains, the land beyond the forests? _

_The place was worlds removed from the picturesque forests of Appellini. Carlisle felt as if he'd suddenly stepped into the dark ages. Dark, that was a word that fit this place. _

_The cool wind shifted and with it there was a plethora of smells. Not far from here, a fire was burning and food was cooking. There was definitely meat cooking, but Carlisle was unable to identify what kind of meat it was. It smelled like pork, but it wasn't. What could it be? _

_Soon, the group of blood drinkers was sprinting towards the direction of the fires. Though the daylight robbed the dhampir of seventy percent of his strength, in the night he was more than able to keep up with his Unstet inferiors. _

_Before him was a sight that made Carlisle's golden eyes widen. In the middle of the forest clearing there was an atoll of rock high enough to overlook everything within the valley. At the top of the rock was a cathedral or monastery of some kind, an ancient and weather abused construct with fragmented and shattered windows made of stained glass. _

_Camped around the foot of the steep and stony hill were more vampires than Carlisle had ever seen. There must have been over two hundred vampires milling about in the light of the bloody moon. In Volterra, Carlisle was lucky to see thirty vampires at a time. _

_One of the Unstet guards, a squat, muscular man with straw colored hair and Teutonic features finally spoke up, "In the Vampire King's castle on the Borgo pass, nearly five times this number of vampires gather." _

_Five times! Good God, where did they find blood enough to feed such creatures? The thought of that gluttonous mass of vampires made Carlisle feel light headed. He was forced to recite the Lord's Prayer in his head to calm his steel nerves. _

_Two thirds of the vampires here were Nosferatu; the rest belonged to miscellaneous species. Many of the breeds of vampire he did not recognize. He saw creatures that were hardly distinguishable from human save for their golden eyes and cat like grace. He saw a group of lead skinned creatures with needle lined mouths that looked ugly as gargoyles. _

_Carved into the side of the stony hill was a winding set of stairs that seemed to defy logic and physics. Without further ado, Carlisle began to climb the stairs with his escort. _

_Modern Day, Cullen Residence_

Alucard was going to leave tomorrow morning. The Cullens should have been happy but they weren't. Since Integra had told Alucard that he was leaving town, he'd massively stepped up his efforts to be mean and nasty.

In the last two hours alone he'd torched Edward's piano with a Molotov cocktail, driven Emmett's jeep off a cliff, firebombed Alice's massive closet and taunted and tormented Jasper with a retelling of his own rape.

Virtually the only Cullens that didn't suffer at Alucard's hands were Carlisle and Rosalie. For whatever reason, Alucard seemed to walk on eggshells when Carlisle was about. And as for Rosie, he'd just not gotten to her yet.

Esme had her own problems. Alucard was madly in lust with her and followed her around like a red eyed shadow. It was reaching that the motherly vampire couldn't get dressed or undressed in the house without Alucard "accidently" walking in.

One time he'd told her innocently, "Hello Esme, would you like to see my weasel?"

Rosalie was in the Cullen's garage. Edward had his homosexual interest in the Piano, Emmett had his video games, Alice had her borderline pathological shopping tendencies, Jasper sat around like an old man reminiscing that Texas wasn't the asshole of civilization, Esme liked to pretend that she was a mother and not a fiendish bloodsucker with a sitcom mom's persona, Carlisle liked torturing himself by hanging out among bleeding humans all day and Bella liked. . . whatever the hell it was that she did when she wasn't fawning over stupid old Edward. All the Cullens had a passion, hers was cars.

Rose loved cars and she loved to repair and maintain them. Fundamentally, she enjoyed giving love to something powerful and masculine yet easy to control. That was why she also loved Emmett. Emmett was sweet and always courteous to his gal. Edward was more likely to mock her and point out that she was a whore.

Currently, she had the daunting task of souping up the new Jeep for Emmett and capturing the feel of his old one. Let's not split hairs, Emmett cried like a baby when saw what Alucard had done to his prized jeep. Whenever possible, Rosalie was using parts from the old jeep to rebuild the new one. Emmett was going to love the scarred and singed steering wheel.

Rosalie heard a sound that touched her heart of hearts. It sounded like a car in trouble. For the moment, she dropped her tools and headed towards the wide open garage door.

That sound was a cry for help from a car in an abusive relationship. The engine had been pushed to its limits, the frame had been battered and from the sound of it, the interior was filled with random crap that ought to be thrown out. She could tell all of this with hearing alone.

All of the sudden, Alucard and his 1970 Chevy Nova came peeling down the gravel trail through the woods that lead to the Cullen home. Rose was horrified; the state of the car was far different from when Alucard rented it.

The rear bumper of the car was a dented, scratched mess. The front bumper was nowhere to be seen. The muffler hung on by a single screw, it trailed on the ground and sent sparks flying everywhere. One headlight was a mess of shattered glass and the grill of the car had seagull wings and dead frogs plastered to it. Two of the back windows had been shot out when Alucard didn't have the patience to just roll them down.

The black Chevy Nova tore through newly planted hedges and started to fly up the immaculate lawn, running over two of the sixty thousand dollar handmade lawn ornaments that Alice bought in Paris. Next he smashed a cute little maple tree that Esme planted last near and most likely killed it. For his finishing act, Alucard slammed on the braked and narrowly avoided wrapping the front of his car around Rosalie.

Clad in only her sexy mechanics outfit, Rose faced down the sinister No-Life King. Alucard skipped out of his car, a motion of the foot which was more fitting for Alice than it was for him. He pulled off his sunglasses and his eyes glowed orange in the rays of the setting sun. "Sorry Rosalie, I thought you were actually standing several yards closer to my car."

Rose didn't respond to the No-Life King's taunts. Instead, she braced herself for true horror and madness.

Yes, there it was! Madness was all over the inside of Alucard's car! Garbage of all sorts, food wrappers, empty cups, condom wrappers and other vile things lay scattered all about the floor. The ashtrays were overflowing with filthy cigarette butts and Alucard didn't even smoke! And oh no . . . there was burrito filling on the dashboard!

Seeing the abysmal way Alucard had treated this wonderful car made Rosalie freeze with anger and shock.

Alucard mistook her stillness for fear. "Stunned by my magnificence are you?" He also mistook it for arousal, "Well, after living with a terribly under endowed little boy like Emmett, any woman would be dissatisfied. Climb into my coffin and I will personally see how deep your rabbit hole goes."

"You're a monster."

Such a simple statement, but its effects were profound. The smile was wiped from Alucard's face and his words got caught in his throat. He looked hurt, offended even. Alucard froze in place like an anime character dramatically posing for the untalented animators.

No longer was Alucard's voice coy and musical, "What did you just call me?" it was downright dangerous.

Rose spun from the poor car and got right into Alucard's face. "You heard me, only a monster could treat his car like this."

His teeth gnashed and strings of rancid drool clung to them, "Listen carefully you little cunt, I am not a monster. I am a genius, I am a visionary and I am every woman's dream!"

Rose swatted the hat off of Alucard's head, antagonizing him further. "Only a true monster could treat _this_ car like you have. This is a 1970 Chevrolet Nova! They don't roll these off the production lines anymore like a Toyota. This car has a 402 V8 engine for God's sake!"

Alucard's expression had gone from insult to surprise. "What are you talking about? I just picked this car because it looked cool. I couldn't give a shit about the engine type or the brand name of this thing."

To illustrate his next point, he kicked the car door and gave it a nasty dent. "Cars are just pieces of metal, it doesn't matter how much we abuse them. The only thing I ask of my car is that it goes fucking fast. Beyond that, this car has fulfilled all my needs."

Rose grabbed Alucard by the cravat, a big no-no. Alucard liked it when women touched his dick but nobody was allowed to touch his cravat. "Listen shithead, I won't even try to explain concepts like right or good to you. But I can't let this innocent car sit for one more minute under your horrible care."

Alucard's breath stank; it smelled like a refrigerator full of decaying meat. He breathed foul fumes into Rosalie's face, "How are you going to do that, Princess, will you thrash me?"

"No, I'll buy it from you and then from the rental company. No price is too high."

"Really, wow, that's awfully generous of you," Alucard sounded pleasantly surprised by Rose's offer.

Rose let go of his cravat and stepped away from him. She took a few sexy steps opposite his direction with the intent to tease him sexually. "I heard about how you drove Bella Swan home. You can do what you want to her, burn her, kill her or whatever, just don't harm any this car or any others."

Alucard adjusted his suit, brushing imaginary just off himself. "Well, Rosalie Slut-Hale, I accept your offer. In exchange for this heroic vehicle, I demand twenty thousand dollars in cash and I'll ask for a small favor later on."

Rose shrugged, "Alright, whatever." She could bow to this ridiculous buffoon's demands, if only she could rescue this poor maltreated car.

_Eastern Europe, Unknown Location, 1740_

_Carlisle climbed the steps with his captors. These steps were never designed to be climbed by humans. They twisted and turned without regard to the natural rhythms of the stone hill they were built on. Several times, the stairs went completely vertical, forcing Carlisle to use grips barely wide enough to get a fingernail into. _

_Other times, the stairs were built out from the hill for ridiculous distances, propped up by rickety stone and wood buttresses. Carlisle believed that these steps were the design of a madman; little did he realize that he only needed to see the structure at the top of this high and narrow stone hill in order to see madness. _

_All around the edges of the valley, high and narrow stone structures like stood near the feet of the mountains. He'd seen rock formations such as these in Greece; they often served home to monasteries like the one up high. _

_When they finally reached the top of the insane stairs, the blood moon only seemed brighter in the sky. Clouds were forming in the sky and thunder rumbled. The brief flashes of white light from the thunder only made the red glow of the moon seem more profound. _

_Carlisle tore his eyes away from the evil moon and looked at the front entrance of the monastery. This place was evil. It stank of evil; Carlisle could almost taste it with each breath. It felt as if the air that leaked from under the moss covered wooden doors was poison and that nothing could survive that toxin. _

_The dhampir grinned as he sensed Carlisle's slow terror of what resided within. He didn't mind this place. He lived for places like this, poison was his food and evil was his air. _

_Striding forward with a previously unseen jubilation in his step, the dhampir stopped before the door of rusted iron and rotten wood. His thick fingered hands reached for the red pendant around his neck. _

_Removing it from his neck, the half-vampire handled the carved red amber like a precious treasure. Gingerly, he held it close to the door's weather beaten surface but not quite letting it touch. _

_For a moment, nothing happened. Then, there was something. It wasn't a sound as much as a feeling, a deep vibration felt in the bones instead of heard with the ears. The doors opened. They swung slowly, not slowly, methodically. Like the gaping jaws of the great crocodile, slow to open, quick to shut. _

_A nod from the dhampir was enough for Carlisle; he began to walk forward; though he could not shake that feeling of horrible __**wrongness**__. _

_This was the inner court of the No-Life King. Here was the king's private routine. Here were his henchmen, his weavers, his tailors, his hairdressers, his painters and record keepers and most importantly; here were his best killers. _

_All the inhabitants of the room had red eyes, the eyes of the vampire. As with the camp at the foot of the rocks, two thirds of the King's servants were Nosferatu. The Nosferatu ranged from fledglings that Carlisle could tear apart with three limbs amputated to ancient masters capable of moving mountains and raining hell on earth. _

_Carlisle saw him. How could you not see him? He was the boss, the big cheese and everybody new it. He was the master, he was the commander. It was him that you went to when you had a problem and it was him that decided who lived and died. _

_For all intents and purposes, he was God in this place. _

_He sat upon a high backed throne carved from rare woods from the Orient. He did not pay for this chair or its construction. It was made for him by a yellow barbarian who labored under the deathhreat of his family. _

_The throne itself was placed on a marble dais where normally a priest would recite the word of God and Jesus Christ. _

_This was indeed a house of worship, but God and his son Jesus Christ had no place in here. This place had been a monastery originally and in years past it had been converted into a madhouse. For decades, the madmen had lain here in chains as the monks attempted to exorcise the demons that tormented them. _

_Then the plague hit this area. The monks left and the inmates were abandoned to the slow, rotting death of the Black Death. The dark history of this place pleased him and so he made it into one of his little summer retreats. _

_There upon the throne of Transylvania and Prince of all that he surveyed was none other than King Dracula, the son of the dragon. _

_The Volturi played their games of power and made their subjects jump through hoops. However the Volturi lacked the sense of regality and power that this creature possessed. Next to this magnificent creature, Aro, Caius and Marcus looked like three twisted, old men. _

_But that was what made Dracula horrible. Though his features were handsome enough to make the women swoon and the men smile and let their guard down, something was terribly wrong. There was an edge about him that nobody else seemed to see, or if they saw it, they ignored it. _

_Carlisle approached the No-Life King, unable to ignore the nagging feeling that something didn't fit about this king. _

_Seeing Dracula, Carlisle felt suddenly aware of his meager social standing as a human. He'd never been anything except the middle class son of a minister far away from anywhere important. This man, Dracula, he'd been born into society's highest caste. _

_He was the top of the pyramid, one of the privileged few who mocked the vermin beneath their feet. _

_Dracula's clothing fully displayed his status in the court and in the wider world. His robes and overcoat were black as a clear night in the most desolate winter. The King's long fingered hands were clothed in black leather gloves with raised patterns on the backs of them. _

_His hair reached his waist and spread in just such a manner that it looked like the hood of a cobra. Underneath his great coat were his robes, under his robes he wore a shirt of the best silk. _

_Black, that was the color of Dracula. Black with very little other color mixed in. Lines of pure gold decorated his cuffs and his inner shirt. On his chest, hanging from a solid gold chain was a red pendant of unparalleled quality and depth. It made the dhampir's amber amulet look like a girl child's pretty jewelry. _

_The Vampire King's eyes were closed; he looked as if he were in deep concentration. Outside, the rain was falling in full force but the clouds failed to cover the bloody moon. Was Dracula responsible for the unnatural hue of the lunar body? _

_The effect of the moon on the rain was that it made it look as it was raining blood outside. The whole interior of the church looked red. From a certain angle, it looked like Dracula was the cold, dead heart of this awful monastery. _

_This place was oppressive. In every way, it made Carlisle long for the simple wood building where his father and grandfather had preached. This place oppressed the soul. Its baroque style was specifically intended to make visitors feel small and unimportant. There was a reason that the Vampire King favored this place. _

_He was so close to the undead monarch that he could reach out and touch him if he had the inclination. The No-Life King remained unmoving, stiff as a cadaver. Sitting near to the King's throne was a small pool of water, Dracula's scrying pool. It was with that Dracula kept an eye on his allies and enemies from remote locations. _

_Carlisle recognized the scrying pool for what it was and he was shocked. In his travels he'd come to know of the pagan symbols that facilitated magic, but it was still shocking to see such a creation in person. _

_It was then that Carlisle received a shock. In the middle of Dracula's forehead, a great, clear third eye opened up and fixed its attention solely on the blond, English Unstet. Seeing this abnormal feature made Carlisle back up into his guards in panic. _

_The third eye on the King's forehead looked to the left and right before vanishing like a bad dream. _

_The unnatural eye now gone, the No-Life King started to laugh. The King's laugher was deep but musical. That voice was comforting and that laughter held no malice. Already, Carlisle's earlier apprehension seemed unfounded. _

_Dracula spoke in fluent Italian, "Forgive me, but I am very weary from my duties and must find levity where I may." _

_Carlisle smiled and was about to respond to the King's friendly words when Dracula spoke to the court in Romanian, a language which Carlisle had passing fluency in. "You have brought me Carlisle the Deviant. I confess, I am disappointed." _

_The entire room seemed to grown quiet. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up with horror disguised to varying degrees. _

_Dracula continued, "I'm disappointed because everyone calls him the deviant and I expecting something strange, like a third arm or something the like." At this jest, the entire courtroom began to laugh. _

_Everyone laughed, except Carlisle. The frivolity of the Vampire King was . . . shocking. Though the jest seemed friendly, it looked like he was playing games of life and death with his subjects. _

_Abruptly, Dracula shot out with his right arm, palm open. The entire room went back to quiet again. Slowly lowering his arm, Dracula's tone of voice carried command and rank in it, "All right, we've wasted enough time. It is high time that proper protocol was observed." _

_He stood up and took a step forward as if to give Carlisle a better view of his shiny, expensive boots. The No-Life King held his arms out and announced to loud enough for the entire room to hear, "All of you, down to the last give your welcome to my guest!" _

_Carlisle's marble ears were greeted by shouts, roars, whispers and hisses of greeting. He did not like this. It felt as if he were being put on display as an oddity. _

"_Carlisle, son of Atwater, welcome to my domain!"_

_There it was again, that edge. Something about Dracula made Carlisle feel deeply uncomfortable in a way that the Volturi never did. _

_As he looked into the No-Life King's dark, fathomless eyes, he felt fear not like anything since one of the London sewer vampires had turned him. _

"_Enter freely and of your own will and leave behind some of the happiness you bring with you." _

* * *

That concludes this chapter here. I really should have put in a few of these interlude chapters earlier, but what the hey. Thanks to everybody that reviews or favorites this story. It means a great deal to me :D Remember, I'm open to suggestions and reviews if they're reasonable. There's no guarantee that I'll accept them, but it never hurts to try. I'm not sure what I'll work on next but it'll be great, regardless of what it is.

While you're on the computer, check out the awsome stories of Shallowswan, EZB and Lion in the Land. You'll be glad you did.

Stay healthy, everybody :D

Ta

Master of the Boot


	28. Graphs, wedding dresses and Blood

Chapter 28: The Big Hellsing

_Graphs, wedding dresses and blood_

Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing or Twilight. All lawyers who show up at my door will be summarily executed.

* * *

Dok looked at his reflection in the mirror. For nearly sixty years his facial features hadn't aged or withered. He still looked like the same young scientist that had been there with the Major all those years ago; but he was different.

The reflection staring back at him was a new man; wholly different from the man that he was in the year nineteen ninety-nine.

That blond hair was the same, so were the blue eyes, thin lips and gangly body. It was the smile; it as gone. Dok stared at himself without his bizarre surgical glasses and found that he could not summon that smile to his face. That smile used to appear on his face seldom but periodically; it was the face that showed when he pleased the Major.

The Major was dead now. Dok had mourned and he'd wept for the man with the strange smile. Now though, he felt strangely empty. He had nobody to work to please. He'd never prostrate himself before a man as vile as Joham. For better or for worse, he was now the boss.

Experimenting, Dok attempted to form that smile on his face. It was not a pleasant smile; it was eerie, toothy and threatened to split his face in half. He'd never known that his smile looked like this; it was downright scary.

Dok didn't like that smile; what on earth had the Major seen in that? The Major was always different from other men; one didn't get a job as one of Hitler's inner circle by having a PHD in normalcy.

Whatever the case, Dok's heart wasn't in it so he stopped smiling. The blank face he wore now was better; it felt better. It reflected the state of his Nazi heart. Blank.

Dok's mind drifted back to the day that the Major was killed. He remembered that the blond haired man with sunglasses had blown off the Major's head amidst the roar and ruckus of Oktoberfest. One detail stood out in his mind.

He remembered that the Major had a certain expression on his face. He remembered that right before his death; the Major took off his glasses and looked like he was going to tell Dok everything. Why was this significant? It was significant because that was not the first time Dok had seen that facial expression.

He remembered when Germany was winning the war and he had been worried that Hitler was going to finish him off. Major had taken off his glasses and explained everything to him.

In nineteen fifty-six, he remembered that he had his first success with the FREAK process only to have it turn out to be a fluke. Major had threatened to have Dok killed if progress was not received. It wasn't an overt death threat but nonetheless Dok has been terrified for his life. When he finally worked up the courage to ask the Major why he had done it (because Dok thought the Major loved him) the Major had taken off his glasses and explained everything.

He remembered all the times that the Major had taunted him about his performance in the bedroom. Eventually he'd worked up the nerve to demand an apology from the Major. Upon doing that, the Major had taken off his glasses and apologized.

Dok frowned slightly and wiped the condensation off of the mirror. He could clearly remember a thousand other incidences where the Major had taken off his glasses and reaffirmed Dok's undying love for him.

Those memories meant something to him; but what? The memories were there but they meant nothing to Dok. At least for the time being they meant nothing.

"_What does it all mean?_" The question was thought and not spoken aloud. A Nazi never revealed his secrets to anybody.

His pondering in front of the mirror was interrupted by a little cat boy in a _Hitlerjung _uniform. Schrodinger looked up at Dok with his usual chipper attitude. With almost comical enthusiasm, Schrodinger snapped up into a Nazi salute specifically for Dok, "_Heil, mein Fuhrer!_ Hey Dok, Joham vants you downstairs."

Dok nodded, he began to slip on his customary white rubber gloves. "Ja, I'll be right down." Looking away from the Cat boy, he began to search about the foggy bathroom for his pants. For whatever reason, Schrodinger had the annoying habit of always popping up when Dok was naked. The Nazi scientist had long learned to get used to this factoid.

"Dok," Schrodinger called for the attention of his master.

"Ja, _vas ist _it?"

The young lad's eyes sparkled as only a curious child's eyes are capable of, "Joham talks funny."

Dok began to pull up his swastika boxer shorts up his skinny legs, "That's because he ist Dutch. They speak half English und half _Deutsch._"

Schrodinger nodded before vanishing without a word.

_Downstairs, Secret Nazi hideout_

Joham greatly respected the Nazis. There were many groups who espoused the same set of values he did but the Nazis stood out in his mind because they were one of the few groups to have actually made their dream a reality in recent memory.

He admired both the ferocity and the efficiently with which they had worked to eliminate the muck races; first with their special action groups and then with their marvellous camps.

However, his respect for the Nazis had not stopped Joham from switching sides and throwing his intellectual might in the support of the Soviet Machine. While the Soviets hadn't necessarily held the same beliefs as Joham, they'd possessed an indifference to human life that he found positively delicious.

For the last fifty years, Joham and his daughters had made this military base their permanent home for the time being. Formerly, this base had been the brainchild and the secret property of one Herman Von Klempt; a most distinguished and inhumane Nazi scientist known for his pioneering work in cybernetics.

Klempt had died only four short years after asserting command over this base hidden in the jungles of South America. Joham had instructed his daughters that Von Klempt was to die an honourable and humane death.

This place was meant to be an almost exact replica of the Wolf's Lair in Germany; the room they sat in now was nearly a perfect recreation of Hitler's private meeting room. The Dutch Unstet sat where Hitler would have; a large bronze eagle seemed to hover on the wall behind him. The vampirovics, Abigail, Hanneke, Sanneke, Veerle and Ega all stood behind Joham like the beautiful Valyries.

Hanneke looked at her _vader_ with hidden adoration. _Vader _demanded that around Doktor Naypeer and his underlings she and her siblings should all be at their very best behaviour. As her father's eldest daughter, Hanneke took it upon herself to set an example for her younger sisters. Later on, _vader_ would praise her for her excellent conduct and hold her up as a shining example of his new master race. Or he might punish her and beat her if she failed in presenting herself properly.

While Hanneke focused on her papa, Joham was focused on Schrodinger. He just hated that damn cat boy. The servant of Dok sat directly across from the eugenic minded Unstet, he was playing with some knickknack that Ega had given him. To Schrodinger, nothing in the world mattered except the little stuffed Garfield doll now in his hands. Apparently, Joham's daughters did not share his revulsion of cats. Veerle even thought that Schrodinger was sexually attractive; she always did have a thing for boys under the age of fourteen.

Fortunately, Joham did not have to wait long in Schrodinger's presence because at that moment, Dok knocked on the heavy metal door of the office. In walked Dok in all of his Nazi homosexual glory. He was looking better than he had in years. His strangle lenses were now polished and Joham was "kind" enough to supply him with brand new clothes. His old lab coat and rubber gloves were becoming worn out.

Joham stood up from the chair he was on and greeted Dok with open arms; his glasses flashed in the fluorescent light. "Ah, _mijn vriend_, it is good to see that you are rested and fed. Now, I hope dearly that you are ready for business, _ja_?"

Dok nodded, "Ja." He was still wary of Joham though. Life for the last sixty years had taught him to limit his trust in others. Joham was not only a scientist; he was a relentless self promoter and ruthlessly self serving.

Joham smiled even more widely and clapped his white cotton gloved hands together, "_Perfectioneer_; let us begin." He then looked behind him at his daughters and said in a commanding voice, "_Dochters!_"

It was all the order that the vampirovics needed; their father had explained rather thoroughly what he expected of them and what was required of them. In this case the girls were required to put together an elaborate display which their father had designed with the expressed purpose of impressing their Nazi guest.

Busy as bees, the girls zipped this way and that, putting up charts, graphs and diagrams. This relevant information was tacked up on a particle board that one of the sisters brought in or set up on various metal stands like sheets of music for the maestro's viewing. Their speed was amazing; even a full blown vampire would be envious of it.

Dok was admittedly impressed by the brief but intense fury of coordination and speed put on the beautiful half vampires before him. If his guess was correct, these girls were just a shade slower than Luke Valentine had been. Now that was _impressive_. Obviously, the torturous body building regime that Joham had submitted his daughters to had worked.

The whole putting together of the display together took hardly any time at all. A human would have missed it entirely; all they would have noticed was a great, brief rush of wind and then a glorious presentation of data. Dok however was not truly human, not since the end of the Second World War.

Joham continued to smile, but if he was pleased with his girls he did very little to show it; he smiled nearly all the time in Dok's presence and it was hard to tell when he was authentically happy with anything.

Surveying the display that he had designed, Joham found it to be satisfactorily put together. If there was a problem with it, then it would automatically be his daughter's fault.

Reaching behind his desk, Joham grabbed a black cane made out of oak, topped with a handle which looked like an eagle's head with swastikas for pupils. It was a barbaric and impressive looking object. With his cane, he began to point to the first graph he had put together. "Here I have gathered a series of charts which are highly relevant to your and mine quest to understand, emulate and surpass Alucard."

Surprisingly, Schrodinger tore his attention away from the Garfield doll long enough to raise his hand, signalling that he had a question.

Joham was tempted to ignore Schrodinger but he was worried that course of action would make it look like he was afraid of the cat boy. "What is it?"

Schrodinger spoke up, "Why do you wear glasses?"

"Because they are the height of fashion in Europe and are rapidly spreading to North and South America. They also make me look less threatening; moving on!"

Joham was about to point with his cane but he could hear the sound of a cat boy groaning to have his next idiotic question answered. Joham gritted his perfectly white teeth, "_Wat u doe will?_"

Schrodinger asked of him, "Vhat do you call that hair on your chin? Ist it a beard?"

It was very fortunate that Dok answered Schrödinger's question, because Joham was one hair away from beating Schrodinger into a stain to a stain on the floor. "That ist called a goatee, Varrant Officer Schrodinger. Shut up now; Her Joham ist trying to tell us something."

Satisfied that Schrodinger would prove no more of a distraction, Joham immediately began smiling again and pointed with his cane. "Very well then, that was a pleasant distraction, but we must not dally."

He indicated a large and colourful title page in the center of the particle board. The title page read, "_Super Secret Vampire Making Projekt for making master race out of mini Alucards._" The words of the title were written in bold, blue letters designed to look as if they were made out of steel. Below the title was a picture of Christopher Lee, playing the part of Dracula from one of his famous Hammer time movies.

Joham explained, "We recently purchased a color printer; because of it, our lives are much more complete and whole."

Dok had to agree, getting a color printing machine could be the biggest decision of a person's life; never mind marriage or having children.

The tip of his cane touched a graph seemingly at random. "This is a graph indicating the level of vampire activity in Great Britain before and after the rise of Alucard. Notice that it plummets distinctly when he arrives?"

Dok did notice this fact; the graph was very easy to understand.

Joham now pointed to another graph, "This graph here indicates the abundance of rain in Great Britain since the arrival of Alucard. Notice that the rain substantially increases with his presence?"

Joham was starting to lose Dok on this one, but he did his confusion well.

On to the next graph, "This graph here indicates the amount of hardwood lumber imported to Great Britain since the arrival of Alucard. Notice that it actually declines?"

"Sure," said Dok, who no longer had any idea what the hell Joham was talking about. Alucard was killing the hardwood lumber industry in England?

Dok looked to his left; Schrodinger seemed fascinated by Joham's presentation. The Garfield doll he played with earlier was now long forgotten. Dok highly doubted that Schrodinger understood what Joham was talking about any more than he did. He didn't say anything because Joham was pointing to the next graph.

"This graph is . . ." he trailed off for a moment. With his left hand, Joham pulled the graph off of the board. "This graph is printed on two sides for some reason." His expression became blank. For a moment, he became as stationary as a statue. He looked like somebody's sculpture of a tempter; kind looking on the outside, evil on the inside.

Joham slowly looked up and at his daughters. His fury made them quiver even though he did not yell or growl at them. No, they would have preferred to have him scream or threaten; they feared him the most when he was silent.

For some seconds he stared at them with inhuman intensity. When he spoke, his voice was devoid of all emotion, compassion or pretence of kindness. "Who printed this paper?"

Dok wanted to laugh aloud, this pompous Hollander was getting into a twist over a lousy graph? It seemed awfully funny to him, but the sisters did not share Dok's attitude.

They tried to hide it, but the wideness of their eyes betrayed them. They were feeling fear and you didn't need to be Jasper Cullen to see it for yourself. Finally, one of the girls, Sanneke, stood forward.

Her face was somewhat pained but her words were panicked and she practically tripped over herself to apologize to her father, "It was my fault, papa, I promise you; it won't happen again. Please forgive me!"

The girl was absolutely terrified; as if her father were going to kill her.

Joham started to slowly walk towards his daughter; in one hand was his cane and in the other was the graph printed on both sides. Slowly and deliberately, he gently placed his cane on the desk.

"You made a mistake?" he asked. Joham's voice contained emotion, but it was all like a ball being compressed by a crushing, twitching, white knuckled hand.

Sanneke made the mistake of looking to her sisters for a moment. Their looks of fear were replaced by cold arrogance and smugness. It was how they were raised; Sanneke would have had the same looks and emotions if one of her sisters were up here instead of her.

Her father was right upon her now. She could not look him in the eye.

Joham lowered his voice, "You made a mistake." It wasn't a question this time.

Sanneke begged him, "Please, papa, don't be mad. I won't make a mistake aga-

CRACK!

Tearful Sanneke's plea was cut off by a loud, sharp noise; like a gunshot. The loudness and abruptness of the noise made Dok and Schrodinger both jump slightly in their chairs.

Joham held his fist back; his white glove was stained in red. From Sanneke's nose, a thin stream of red blood dripped a bit before immediately stopping. As tears fell from her eyes, her sisters continued to stare at her with cold arrogance and a bolstered sense of superiority. It was how they were raised.

Joham said again, "You made a mistake." She didn't try to defend herself this time. He struck her again.

CRACK!

"You have made a mistake." His lip curled with disgust.

CRACK!

"I do not tolerate mistakes."

CRACK!

Sanneke's face below the nose was covered in blood. Dok couldn't help but note that while she was bleeding, the damage to her facial features was only superficial.

Joham held his fist as if ready to throw another punch, but that other punch never came. Then, in a voice as cold as the Antarctic winds, he told his battered offspring, "I never tolerate mistakes. I wanted sons and instead I got you girls." He turned to his other daughters, "You, mark my words!"

He issued to Sanneke, "Go to your quarters and think on what you have done to me. I will discipline you when I am ready." She was gone in a flash; terror was likely fuelling her prodigious speed.

Joham took a deep breath that he did not need to take. He looked down at his hand, stained with the life of his own flesh. Joham sighed and began to slowly stroll towards the chair. He sat down as if he were fatigued. He looked as if he regretted striking his daughter. Joham was a very good actor and Dok knew it.

Joham leaned back in his chair and held up the hand that was clothed in a bloody glove. In a snap, his remaining daughters jumped to action with a speed that was just a shade slower than Luke Valentine.

One of the girls removed the bloody glove while another opened the desk and put on a fresh glove from a box of cotton gloves.

When the girls had changed his glove, Joham leaned forward from where he sat and grabbed the cane. Thoughtfully, he began to run his fingers along the raised reliefs of feathers on the silver eagle's head.

While a more sentimental mind might have fallen for Joham's song and dance, Dok did not. In fact, Joham's pretend remorse was trying his patience.

After a pregnant pause, Joham said to Dok, "I'm sorry you had to see that, _mijn vriend_."

"Don't be," Dok responded curtly.

Joham's spirits immediately lifted and he was smiling as widely as before, "I'm glad that my discipline has not put you off. We have serious matters to discuss, much more serious than disciplining a thoughtless _dochter_."

Dok motioned with his gloved hand, "Please, continue, Joham."

Joham jumped up at a human speed. Everything he seemed to do was at human speed; his daughters did all the rushing that he needed. He held up the graph that Sanneke botched up, "This graph is printed on both sides, but it still has valuable information on it." He acted now as if being printed on both sides were no big deal.

Dok took the double sided graph but could make no sense of it. There was no title and nothing explained what, if anything, the graph measured.

Joham drew Dok's attention to _another_ graph, "This graph here I invented after I attempted to use powerful magnetic waves to alter my mental state. I don't really remember what happened that day." For a moment, Joham spaced out. Then he bounced back from it. "Fortunately, since that unfortunate day, my memory has been photographic as ever."

That was very nice for Joham.

The white haired, white suited vampire pointed to two more graphs, "This graph here represents the military spending of the principality of Wallachia between thirteen oh-one and fourteen ninety two A.D."

Then he explained the second graph, "This graph easily explains the correlation between Alucard and Robin Williams. This proves that the more Robin Williams we have, the less Alucard we get. So since Alucard has been on the rise, we see a corresponding decline in the numbers of Robin Williams."

Dok just stared blankly as Joham explained another graph. "This graph is about genies; or something like that."

He was then interrupted by Dok; the daughters were horrified by this. "Vhat does this haff to do vith anything? Who is Robin Williams? Vhat im Hell does Alucard have to do vith hardwood lumber?"

Joham chuckled and began to open a lock in his metal desk. "I thought you would see that."

To Dok's surprise, Joham pulled out a comically thick folder and dumped it unceremoniously on the metal top of the desk. Scrawled in elaborate script on the top of the folder was a single word. Dok read it aloud, "Volturi."

Joham nodded his head in a most understanding fashion, "Indeed, this four and one half thousand pages of information on the Volturi is only a drop in the bucket of the sum of information that I have gathered about them."

This was all good and fine but, "Vhat does this haff to do vith Alucard? The Volturi are of no interest to us."

Joham playfully admonished Dok, "That is a mistake. We care about the Volturi because next to the Hellsing family, no one else holds as much information on Alucard."

Dok retorted, "That ist fine, but this ist not the information that we need."

Joham replied, "And this is not the only information I possess." Joham snapped his fingers and like magic, his children had placed two equally thick folders upon the desk.

Dok noted the first folder, written in the same pen as the Volturi folder read, "_Hellsing Organization._" The second folder read, "_The Cullens._"

He could understand the need for a folder on the Hellsing Organization but he did not know who the Cullens were. "Who are these Cullens?"

Joham replied coyly, "They are the largest group of talented Unstet outside of the Volturi and are quite the force to be reckoned with."

By this time, Dok had had enough of Joham's coy attitude and seeming lack of focus on the task at hand. "Joham, are you senile? You do not understand vhat I am trying to do!"

This seemed to shock Joham, and Dok continued, "Alucard ist the target of mein focus. He ist the lynch pin, him und his master, Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing. It vas the Major's mission to kill Alucard, now it ist mein."

Joham shut off Dok in mid speech, "ENOUGH! _Hou je mond!_" Shut up.

His red eyes flashed behind his glasses, his teeth gnashed. In that moment you could truly see the predator that he was, not the caring relative that he pretended to be. When he'd yelled, he'd slammed his hand down on the desk, putting a rather large dent in its iron surface.

Joham Devenpeck's voice was a barely human growl, "Listen to me, _jungen_; I was ancient when your precious Germany was a pitiful band of city states. I have nine centuries of knowledge beneath my belt and all the wisdom that accompanies it."

Dok had stood up in his seat at the onset of Joham's outburst but he had lost track of Schrodinger. Which is why it was such a surprise when Schrodinger suddenly teleported on top of Joham's desk, aiming a small Nazi derringer between Joham's eyes.

The daughters were about to attack, but were held off by a gesture of their father. Joham turned down the growl of his voice, but it still had its edge, "You want to destroy Alucard? That's fine by me; I don't even care why you want to do it. But I also sense that you want to see the inner workings of that monster."

He licked his lips, returning to some of his human facade, "Understand me, you will never be able to kill Alucard as you are. If you keep on mystifying him and deifying him, then he will destroy you ever single time."

Joham paused; a steel look came over Dok's face. "Put down your veapon, Varrant Officer."

Schrodinger did so, but slowly. He responded to Dok, "_Jawol, mein Furhrer_."

Joham went on, "Alucard does not operate in a vacuum; you must be prepared to learn about all the major opponents. Gone are the days when your Major took care of you and coddled you. You must be aware of the big picture and of all the potential threats and allies if you are to ever become a true scientist. Expand your narrow mindset. Accept the lessons that I have to offer; I do nothing without purpose."

Time passed and behind his glasses, Dok started to ponder. When he finally did speak, it was deliberate and cold; the voice of a leader, "I vill learn vhat you have to teach me, but you do not command me. I located you und you agreed to join me, not the other vay around."

Finally, Doktor Avondale Naypeer said, "No more graphs; und don't call me your friend."

Joham smiled, but this time he made sure to curb his enthusiasm, "I can respect that, Doktor. Now, I want to join with you and start planning our grand designs together."

Dok slowly sat down again, "Ja, sure."

Joham's smile was small; the corners of his mouth barely lifted. "Good, now I have a few things before we go on." He made a show of clearing his throat; more imitating human behaviour in order to make himself seem less threatening. "As hard as this is to belive; at his core, Alucard is only a man. He makes mistakes, he has flaws, he has weaknesses; we can exploit all of those."

Dok listened.

"Alucard is like a magician; you only see what he wants you to. What we must do is to avert our gaze and see what he does not want us too."

Dok smiled, just a little bit, "Then vhat are ve vaiting for?"

_Forks, Washington State, Swan Residence_

"Oh, hi, Rosie." Bella beamed cheerfully. However, the daughter of Renee Dwyer and Charlie Swan was far from happy to see Rosalie. Rosalie was always killing the mood wherever she went. She was such a total princess; it was like she had a license to be mean.

Rose didn't acknowledge Bella immediately. Instead, she gazed around at the poorly furnished and tacky home decor of Chief Swan's place. Compared to the stately Cullen Manor this place was a rundown shithole. Rose cringed at the thought of what this place must have looked like before Bella arrived to help Charlie with the house work.

After taking enough time to look arrogant, Rose said to Bella in an emotionless voice, "Hello, Bella."

There was an awkward pause, Bella had no idea why Rose would be here, so she just tried being polite. "So, can I get you something? Would you like to sit down?"

Rose internally scoffed at Bella's misplaced attempts at being polite. There was nothing Bella could offer her and she did not want or need to sit down. Of course, while this annoyed her, she would have been equally annoyed if Bella hadn't attempted to be polite. There was no pleasing this girl.

Rose motioned to the inferior human girl whose plainness offended Rose, "Bella, get over here."

Slightly nervous, Bella decided to comply with Rose's wishes, "Okey-dokey, Rose."

Rose gazed at Bella with her lovely topaz eyes. She was so hot; she knew it, everybody knew it. She started to speak, "I know that your marriage with Edward is coming up very soon."

Bella beamed stupidly, "That's right, we're going to get married, then we'll have sex and then I'll become a vampire and we'll truly be happy."

Rose shook her head at Bella's naiveté, this girl knew nothing.

Bella continued to babble, "If it were up to me, I'd have sex with Edward, become a vampire, have sex again and get married then."

The car aficionado of the Cullens spoke in her beautiful voice, "Do you understand what it means to become a vampire, Bella?"

Bella nodded, "Sure, I'll be crazy for a year and then I can move back to civilization with Edward." Her rounded features then fell a bit, "I'll have to leave Charlie, and that'll be sad." The girl immediately brightened up, "But Alice says that he'll fall in love with Sue Clearwater, so I guess that'll work out."

"Bella, do you truly know what you'll be giving up?"

"Um, I don't know; I guess it'll suck to have to live only in cloudy cities."

Rose shook her head, "Bella, do you think that being a vampire is glamorous?"

Bella responded immediately, "Yep."

Rose stepped a little closer to Bella, "No Bella, becoming a vampire is nothing short of a living hell."

"Why?"

Rose looked up, her perfect features were warped by annoyance, "Why what?"

Bella was confused, "Why is being a vampire like a living hell?"

Rose snapped, "Well, for one thing, it doesn't solve your problems. It just makes them last for all eternity."

Bella responded timidly, "But, doesn't it give you eternity to sort your problems out."

"No."

"Okay, Rose." Rose was starting to scare her.

Rose went on, "Imagine spending every day on the verge of killing everyone around you, there is molten lava in your throat and you'll never change for the rest of your unnatural life."

Bella was visibly nervous and a blush was rising to her cheeks, "Well, uh, nobody said it would be easy." She tried to make a joke of it, but it didn't take with Rosalie. Rose just continued to look angrily at her.

The once Hale looked at the Swan girl, "Bella, to become a vampire is to become _cold, dead and full of want_! Does that sound good to you?"

Bella stuttered, "Not really, no."

Rose snapped, "Exactly, Bella; you spend the ages watching everything change, grow, wither and die while you are helpless to do anything about it!" Her rant wasn't over, "You watch everything die because everything you touch dies!"

"But wouldn't it be boring?"

Rose blinked unnecessarily, "What are you talking about?"

Bella elaborated, "I mean; wouldn't it be very boring if everything stayed the same during your immortal life? I mean, Aro said that boredom is the worst thing for an immortal."

Rosalie growled in anger, "YOU IDIOT! You have absolutely no idea what you're asking for!"

Bella cowered in fear, not for the first time, she wished that she didn't have to make vampires angry so often. First it was James, then the Volturi, and then there was that wacky Card guy from England that Edward had talked about.

Rose ran up to the cowering Bella and shouted, "BEING A VAMPIRE SUCKS!!!!! WE ALL HATE IT!!!!!"

Bella tried to diffuse Rose's anger, "But-but, Emmett seems happy."

"OF COURSE HE'S HAPPY; HE'S MARRIED TO ME!!! IF YOU WERE GOING TO MARRY ME, YOU'D BE HAPPY AS A VAMPIRE TOO!!!!!"

At that, Bella had a mental image of herself eloping with Rosalie. That mental image left her fighting the urge to commit suicide with Charlie's gun. Surely, spending an eternity in hell for killing yourself must be much better than spending any time in intimate company with Rosalie?

Rosalie tried to lower her voice a bit, "Listen, Bella, when Carlisle found me, I'd been raped nearly to death by my fiancée and his gang of faggot friends!"

Bella couldn't help but gasp, she didn't know anything about Rose's past. She could have never guessed that it was so tragic. Maybe the stupid bitch had a reason to act the way she did?

The story continued, "I was that rich little girl who had everything, the only thing I didn't have was children!"

It was a reasonable thing to want children, but Bella thought that Rose's need for children was unhealthy in its intensity. In some ways, maybe it was a good thing that Rose never had kids.

"When I saw my best friend's child at the age of eighteen, I nearly flipped a shit. I had to have one."

The former New York girl paced around the room, "Then I got betrothed to Royce King; his dad was my dad's boss." Her voice became full of self depreciating venom, "And because I was an idiot, I fell for that self absorbed sack of shit. He bought me roses and told me that I was pretty; just like any _good_ boyfriend."

Bella could only watch with morbid fascination as Rose spilled her dirty secret to her.

"I didn't love him, but back then it didn't matter. Then one night, I was walking home and I stumbled on Royce and his friends."

Rose's voice was drenched in cynicism and bitterness, "Apparently I must have been dressing provocatively because they started pretending I was a horse and they stripped me of all my dignity and had their way with me."

Bella's expression was full of sympathy but for the life of her, she didn't know what to say. What could she have said? I'm sorry you got raped? I'm sorry that you have to live with that forever? There was nothing that could be said that could right the wrong that had been done to this girl.

Rose's tone of voice deadpanned, "After being bitten, Edward rejected me as a mate. I didn't want him, but it stung just the same. I thought he rejected me because of what had happened to me. However, he was thoughtful enough to help me get my revenge on Royce and company."

"They all died painfully," she said without elaborating further. "Revenge left me as hollow as before, Edward told me so. But nothing could have stopped me, it wasn't about justice or making myself feel better; it was a raw, unthinking animal impulse that I had no choice but to follow."

Rosalie's voice suddenly took on a sadistic edge and her features warped into a malicious smile, "I didn't get much pleasure out of killing Royce King, but I got a lot of pleasure from killing his parents."

_Rochester, New York, 1932_

_Rosalie was wearing the same wedding dress she killed Royce King in and she was proud of herself, why shouldn't she be? She'd been walking the earth as one of the damned undead for only a short while and already she had such control over the bloodlust. _

_She had always wondered why vampires of her kind always seemed to have a problem with the thirst for blood. Carlisle never seemed to have an answer for her; all that he ever had was total resistance to human blood. _

_It always frustrated her to no end; Carlisle's super self control. She wanted to know the source of it, but he always professed his ignorance and gave her false answers. Now though, she understood the source of his control. _

_The Unstet feed like sharks; they don't just bite, they tear, rip and slice until all the blood is drained and the prey is nothing but a masticated mess. She'd been told that there were Unstet more than twice Carlisle's age but they did not have his restraint around animal blood, let alone human blood. _

_Rosalie had discovered the secret of the super self control. What an Unstet needed to beat the hunger was to substitute it. They needed a goal; an overpowering, all encompassing goal to which failure is not an option. _

_Though the smell of the blood burned her throat like acid, she could take it. She could take anything the world threw at her. Her purpose now was violence; pure, unmediated violence. _

_Royce's death was small and anticlimactic; most likely because he'd been dead the moment that Carlisle turned her, he just didn't' know it. But Royce's parents were entirely another matter. _

_They were just as responsible for her misery as their degenerate son was; they conceived him. If they're never had a son, she would have never gotten raped. Her logic was flawless. _

_Her fist made another impact; she loved the feel of bones crunching and fresh pulverizing under her clenched hand. _

_The wife was dead; Rose didn't remember her name or her face. She knew what kind of woman this was; a whore of a woman who put her fucking face in-between the teats of indulgence and suckled like a pig. Royce was her little piglet and the father was. She deserved to die, even without being Royce's mother. _

_The mother died instantly; Rose used too much force and ended up tearing off her head by accident. Her blood splattered all over the floor but a large amount of it landed on the husband. It looked like he actually had some feeling for the fat bitch. He was probably regretting that he never showed any concern for her while she still had her head. _

_Rosie raised her arm and landed another brutal blow to the old man's face. His features used to be very handsome; Roman nose and iron grey hair. Even though he was getting long in the tooth, he was still a moving and powerful presence. _

_Not any more he wasn't. _

_Right now, Royce King the first looked like chopped hamburger meat. Blood ran down his face and stained his expensive white shirt. The left eye was totally swollen shut and if he survived, not likely, he'd never see out of that eye again. The other eye, normally grey and twinkling, was slowly being submerged in a slow river of blood from a bad gash on his head. The skull was badly cracked in many places; Rose was almost sure that she could see his brain, but she had never studied medicine. _

_There were a few emotions running across what was left of the old man's face; fear, disappointment, sadness. It was completely pitiful; he deserved no mercy or sympathy from Rosalie. _

_She wound up and punched the old man again, this time in the ribs. The ribs splintered and punctured the lungs; he'd drown in his own blood before long. _

_He groaned in agony; he was too badly injured to do much more. But Rosalie ate it up. She loved this. It was __**good**__. With every bone broken, every organ ruptured and every drop of spit and blood that was left on the floor and splattered on her filthy wedding dress, she felt the sins, the pain and the dirt falling off her. _

_She was grinning from ear to ear and the white hot fire in her throat couldn't compare with the nuclear powered fire that burned in her heart. Pure hatred; it was all consuming and single minded. _

_She's told the old man and his bitch. She'd told them both of what Royce had done to her and that she had been the one to kill him. The old bitch burst into tears; it was very theatrical. The old man begged for forgiveness for his son. _

_In that moment of darkness and bile, when she could have turned back from this self destructive path and become better for it, Rosalie Lillian Hale said, "No." And then grinning from ear to ear, she fulfilled her satanic mission. _

_Rose hit the old man once more, this time a bit more forcefully. Some of his few remaining teeth flew out and bounced off her face. It was a challenge to hit him with so little of her full force, but it was a challenge she stepped up to and relished. _

_**CRUNCH**__! _

_She hoped that that blow had hurt more than the rest. _

_There was a faint rustle, something so slight that even vampire ears could barely pick it up. Looking up, she saw something that wiped the bloody grin off of her face. It was Edward. _

_There was that smug little boy, eternally seventeen and eternally arrogant and childish. Edward didn't look childish or arrogant to her now. He looked like several things, and all of them brought her back to reality. _

_It dawned on her what was truly happening now. She'd gone out and savagely murdered two innocent people that had never done her any harm at all. She'd met them only once before tonight. __**She**__ was the pig; she was the run wallowing in shit and suckling off of the indulgence of murder. _

_Disappointment and sadness were etched all over Edward's face. He didn't look seventeen; he looked like he was a thousand years old and was witnessing the worst crimes of the human race. _

_**Disappointment**__. _

_It cut into Rosalie like a knife; cut through that snooty veneer. All that talk of what a Hale does and doesn't, "A Hale doesn't do her own laundry. A Hale is above all others." It all seemed like the hollowest shit; there was nothing special or lovely about her. _

_**Regret**__._

_He regretted having introduced her to the way to kill humans and control herself. He regretted not saving her. He regretted that any of this had to happen. _

_**Pain**__. _

_Rosalie could feel the pain. This boy was her brother; she felt like a monster for putting him through this. He hadn't considered her a mate, but hadn't he always been courteous and a perfect gentleman? _

_Him? What about the Kings; didn't they deserve her pity as well? _

_**Tainted**__. _

_Rosalie was tainted and it had nothing to do with Royce King. She'd brought this on herself. Like Nietzsche; how could she purify herself after this, what meaningless rites could she go through to absolve herself? _

_**Nothing**__. _

"_I'm sorry Rose," Edward said. His voice shattered her lump of a heart into a thousand pieces and scattered them to the winds. "I'm sorry, but I can't help you." He could not help her. "I just can't." _

_Edward began to walk away. Rosalie wanted to scream; she wanted to jump at him and drag him back here and beg like a hobo for his help. But she didn't do anything. She stood there and watched him leave her behind. What could he do to help anyways? _

_She let go of King's throat. It was too late for him; nothing short of turning him would save him now. To turn him would be the ultimate disrespect; take away everything a man has, strip him of dignity, agency and love and then leave him unable to die. The only thing more humiliating to the man than that would be to say that she was sorry. _

_Sorry wasn't going to bring back his wife and son, sorry wouldn't undo tonight's travesty. Sorry wouldn't make Rosalie whole and happy. Nothing ever would. _

_She was alone; in a gruesome, apathetic world, she was totally and utterly alone. _

_Forks, Washington State, Today, _

Rosalie snapped out of her flashback. It was very interesting; Unstet could never forget but a side effect of that was that they were highly prone to flashbacks and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Rose looked down at Bella. The girl was currently cowering in fear with pieces of porcelain all around her. She asked Bella, "What just happened?"

Bella, still terrified beyond reason, stuttered out, "You almost hit me in the head with a toilet." Well, that would explain why Bella was all wet.

Rose gruffly said to Bella, "Get some dry clothes on; I'll try to replace the toilet."

Bella started to get up; fearful of the sharp shards of porcelain all around her. "Bella," the bell like voice rang.

Bella tried to hide her terror, "Yes?"

"The biggest reason that I don't want to see you become a vampire is that you could end up just like me."

Fuck; that was a low blow. Of all the anti-vampire rhetorical bullshit that Rose had spewed out; Bella hadn't actually listened to a word of it or had immediately disregarded it. But this here was a really good reason not to be turned. The thought of becoming anything like Rosalie would be enough to make Bella lose sleep tonight.

That was the thing though; she didn't want to become a vampire for herself. She wanted to do it for Edward. If she was turned, he'd no longer have to walk around eggshells around her. As of now, it felt like their relationship was talking place on opposite sides of a sheet of bulletproof glass at a prison. They couldn't properly touch, be together for long or be genuinely intimate. As things were, Edward would always remain as distant as a painting in a museum.

There was a risk though; if she became a vampire, Edward might like her less or he might miss her scent and it could tear them apart. Still, the saying goes, "_Nothing ventured, nothing gained._"

And some sadistic part of Bella's soul was going to enjoy seeing the look on Rose's face when she saw the newly made Bella Cullen with red eyes and a shit eating grin.

Alucard was gone, but Edward had told Bella that tomorrow Alucard's master would visit Forks with two of her henchmen.

This made Bella shudder; Alucard's master must be a very evil person indeed to control somebody of his power and villainy. She had a mental image of Alucard's master being queen of the damned.

Oh well, no matter; Edward would need her and if necessary, she was willing to protect him from Alucard's master.

_Special sneak preview:_

_Integra just smiled; she was amused, "This has nothing to do with vampires." She sounded so sure. _

_Next to her, Zohall Mercer asked, "Then what does it have to do with then?" _

_Integra shrugged, "The fuck should I know? All that I know is that it's ridiculous and silly to cry vampire every time some girl finds a toe in her bedroom. There is nothing that indicated vampire involvement." _

_Bella protested, "But some vampires are actually trying to kill me and they must have left the toe in there." _

_Integra sucked on her cigar, "That vampire you mentioned, Victoria, she's obviously an amateur. There is no way she could have been responsible for this; it must have been one of your classmates?" _

_Bella stared at Integra blankly, "What the heck are you talking about?" _

_Integra said in a haughty tone, "Please; as if were impossible for one of your classmates to take a toe, apply a bit of nail polish on it-_

_Bella interrupted, "Where would someone get a toe?" _

_Integra exhaled and explained calmly, "You want a toe? I can get you a toe? There are ways; you don't want to know about them." _

_Zohall tried to cut in, "Boss." _

"_I can get you a toe by three o'clock this afternoon; with nail polish." _

* * *

And thanks for reading and reviewing; you've been a wonderful audience. I love all you guys and I aim to please. I hope you had a wonderful read. Sorry for the long update period, University is tough. I hope that I haven't alienated any of you or made you forget the plot.

Well, I gotta run now, school calls :)

Ta

Master of the Boot


	29. The Toe: Part 1

The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair

Chapter Twenty-nine: The Toe: Part 1

Disclaimer: I don't own shit.

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Forks, Washington state, Swan residence

On the surface, the town of Forks seemed like a boring place. For the most part, it was a boring place. Other than the fact that it had the most rainfall anywhere in the continent, there was precious little in the town that distinguished it in the eyes of the majority of its inhabitants or visitors.

The town took its unusual name from a local river, known as the River Forks. Not a particularly creative name for a river or a town but it served its purpose to the people that originally named it.

Bella Swan was much like the town, not bad but not good either. Today was a Saturday and it was sunny. A rare abundance of sunlight meant that there would be no Edward about. He hadn't been there to watch her sleep.

Some might consider Bella's boyfriend's habit of watching her sleep a bit creepy, or a lot; it all depended on your point of view. Bella had at first been weirded out by it, but she grew used to it pretty quick. It wasn't the worst thing that a boyfriend could do. And it was nothing compared to what Jacob Black did at night; now _that_ was what Bella found to be really creepy.

Since there was no school, no Edward and precious little homework, Bella decided to sleep in today. It was a nice day for it; she could open the windows and play her favourite music at volumes that would have Charlie losing his hearing. She loved her father, Charlie very much; but the only music that he liked was the theme music that played in-between commercials during football games.

Rising up from her bed, Bella rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and tried to pull back her mahogany brown hair from over her eyes. A small red blemish on her cheek signalled the dreaded rise of a zit on her otherwise chalk white skin; she'd deal with it when she was more fully awake.

If you were to see her at this moment, wearing wrinkled pyjamas, old shirt and a vacant, brainless expression, you would know that she was truly her father's daughter. Charlie Swan had enough intelligence to be a police chief and his daughter had enough brains to do well at Forks High, but that wasn't really saying much for either of them.

Stepping up from her bed, Bella glanced sideways; in her closet was a red dress, courtesy of Alice Cullen. Alice loved shopping; Bella did not. Shopping was an activity that she found almost physically painful. Forgetting about the red shirt, Bella ambled over to the bathroom like one of the zombies which had destroyed Raccoon City.

Minutes passed; slowly, the daughter of Charlie Swan and Renee Dwyer began to become presentable in a public setting. In her use of toothpaste and underarm deodorant, she was no different from the girls whose boyfriends were not vampires.

Eventually, the first step of her morning procedures was done. Zombielike, she shambled out of the bathroom and back to her bedroom to get dressed; only this time her gait was a little bit more refined and her brown eyes were a bit brighter.

Suddenly she stubbed her toe! Bella didn't swear, but by God she sorely wanted to. Grunting in pain, Bella leaned up against a wall in order to avoid falling on her ass. Her breathing came on heavy as she tried to clear her mind using some of the meditation techniques her mother had given up on while living in Arizona.

Bella wasn't sure if her mental chants worked, but soon enough the pain was gone. With the pain gone, Bella could now get on with her Saturday morning routine. Charlie was at work, so all she had to do was make breakfast for one. After breakfast, she'd tidy the house a bit, re-re-re-read _Pride and Prejudice_, do some homework with _Claire de Lune_ playing at a hundred decibels and try to visit the Cullens before she had to return home and prepare supper for her and her dad.

Bella wasn't Sherlock Holmes, her powers of deduction weren't the greatest; still, something was off. Isabella couldn't put her finger on it but something was different about her room. What could it be? What was different? She wasn't the smartest girl around, but when Bella Marie Swan sensed that something was out of the norm, she just couldn't let it go. It was this trait which had landed her Edward.

Something was missing; something red. Bella looked at her closet and realized with a slow shock that the red shirt bought by Alice was missing. She went to check if the shirt had fallen from it's the coat hanger. A cursory scan of the bottom of the closet revealed that the shirt had not fallen. It was totally absent.

Also absent was a sock which had lain next to her bed, a plain bra next to her desk and an old nightshirt that once belonged to her dad.

Bella was unnerved by this strange phenomenon but kept a cool head. Just like Nancy Drew, she's use her head and come up with a battle plan. She'd change her schedule a bit; eat breakfast now and then visit with the Cullens. She'd tell this to her vampire friends and hopefully they'd all laugh and tell her that she had nothing to worry about.

Bella took a deep breath and smiled slightly, trying to reassure herself. Why should she be nervous? After all, Victoria was only still out there and most certainly plotting revenge; what could be wrong?

Then she noticed one little detail that should have been the first she ought to have observed. There was a human toe laying on the floor right in front of her; it had green nail polish on and the toe was slightly smeared with dried blood.

Oh shit.

Maybe it would be advisable to go to the Cullen residence now.

_Ring-Ring!_

The downstairs telephone started to regale Bella with its frantic calls. Scared shitless by the sight of a disembodied toe, she sprinted downstairs; tripping and banging up her shins something nicely.

Now Bella cursed like a sailor, but the phone didn't listen, it only spoke.

_Ring-Ring!_

"Jesus Christ!" Bella hissed in pain. Right before it went to the answering machine, Bella snatched the receiver from in a painful death grip worthy of a dying secret agent.

Short of breath from abusing her shins by accident on a door frame, Bella spoke curtly, "Yes!" into the receiver.

A pixie's bell like voice resounded in her ear, "Bella," it was Alice Cullen, "You need to get to our house right away. I can't tell you what it is over the phone."

"Why not?" Bella asked.

Alice retorted, "Because the future is better this way". Yes, Alice did have the power to see the future but Bella didn't necessarily trust that; Alice hadn't seen the toe in her visions."

"Bella, I known that something happened and I don't know why I didn't see it; but trust me, it was for the better. It's like _The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen_: The board is set, and the game is on." Then she hung up.

Fucking melodramatic pixie vamp.

_Washington State, Undisclosed Military base_

Integra was furious; she had every right to be. Alucard had gone and slapped their American allies in the face. She would not allow her servant to undo all of the bridge building and goodwill built by her father, Arthur Hellsing.

Behind her stood two of her loyal servants, Seras Victoria and Zohall Mercer; a blond and busty Nosferatu girl and a blond swordsman who looked like he was dressing up for the Anime fest. She'd taken both of them from England because she needed somebody to do the job that Alucard was supposed to be doing; providing and assessing security for Integra's upcoming meeting with Tony Soprano.

Tony Soprano; Integra cursed his name. If it wasn't for the fact that he'd told American law enforcement that she was a criminal then she wouldn't have to send agents of hers to American in the first place.

In front of Integra stood her most powerful servant, Alucard. The ancient vampire stood before his master like a true villain, utterly unrepentant for his crimes. His lyrical voice rolled out, "It's good to see you again, my master."

Integra wouldn't stand for his sass. "Don't fucking bullshit me, Alucard! You've gone and ruined everything."

He protested playfully, "But master, I was only following your orders while I was here." He paused before adding, "And I also picked up some nifty Barack Obama merchandise; just look at this Barack Obama cocaine that I purchased; now with fifteen percent less acetone in it."

Integra gritted her teeth as Alucard thrust a plastic bag with Obama's smiling face right into her face. Backhanded, she smacked the bag of cocaine from Alucard's hand, "Get that shit out of my face!" At the rate he was going, Alucard was going to turn her grey prematurely, "I am here to send you back to England and punish you, you son of a bitch!"

Alucard perked up at the sound of that, "Oh, punishment; I like punishment." It was true; Alucard was quite the masochist. In his free time he enjoyed putting venomous snakes in his underpants and smacking them with a rug beater to get them started. He couldn't wait to see what kind of punishment Integra had in mind; hopefully it would involve torture. There was really nothing quite as thrilling as having a diamondback dig its three inch fangs into his six inch diesel.

Integra crossed her arms, "Yes, Alucard; I am going to punish you. More than that, I am going to utterly destroy you."

Alucard chuckled, "That's the spirit, my master; haven no mercy! Now, have you considered the torture merits of power tools?"

At this, Integra merely smiled. Something about Integra's sure, confident smile took the edge off of Alucard's arrogance. "I'm not going to torture you, Alucard; I'm going to break you."

Alucard's smile shrank in size but his chest swelled with pride in his young master. "Well, you always were ahead of the rest, master. So, what do you have in mind?"

Integra smiled as she reached for a cigar. Taking her time, she held the cigarette aloft, allowing Zohall to light it for her. Savouring the flavour of this particular brand of tobacco, she elaborated, "First of all, I order you to hand over your weapon, the Jackal so that we can melt it down for scrap metal."

Alucard did a hundred and eighty; one minute he was confident and cool, now his eyes were bugging out with shock. Before he could protest, Integra continued.

"Second of all, when you reach England you are to destroy your coffin with a sledge hammer and from thenceforth sleep in a cardboard box filled with the soil of your birthplace."

Alucard looked like an abused child; desperately he gaped at Zohall and Seras, vainly trying to get some support from them. Both of them tried to avoid Alucard's gaze; he'd abused them both in the past but they couldn't bring themselves to enjoy this. They were far too decent for that sort of thing.

Still at a loss for words, he could only watch as Integra delivered the next article of his punishment, "Third: when you get home I order you to set fire to your entire collection of Batman comics, movies and other comic book related junk that you might have."

In anguish, Alucard shrieked like a beaten puppy. He should have prepared for this; for years he'd exposed Integra directly and indirectly to all manner of brutality and evil. It would only make sense that Integra would take a page from his book and hit a person where it hurts. Physical torture would do nothing to Alucard; and given his twisted mind, most conventional forms of psychological torture would be equally ineffective.

Integra delivered the final blow to Alucard, "As for the last article of your punishment, I order you to kill Carlisle Cullen since you seem to love him so much."

Such a cry of anguish tore from Alucard's chest that even Integra jumped back. Instantly he fell on his knees and started to claw at his face as if he were trying to rip it off. Then he started to swat all over himself in a frantic fashion; it was like a drug addict trying to kill the imaginary bugs that ate his skin. In their sockets, his eyes span every which way and his saliva turned red where he bit his tongue.

His cries were so loud that the American soldiers could hear it from one end of the base to another. In the cafeteria, a veteran of the war in Iraq went into flashbacks because of Alucard's banshee like wailing.

Eventually, Alucard quieted down some but he was still convulsing like a victim of electroshock therapy. His legs kicked as if he was trying to run but he was going nowhere. Seras and Zohall looked at each other; if things got sour they would both try to run like hell and drag Integra with them.

Zohall attempted to calm down Alucard, but he was less than sure of himself, "Whoa, whoa; easy, sailor. Just take a deep breath."

Instead of taking a deep breath, Alucard started to groan and claw at his eyes. There was something sad about seeing a five hundred and more year old vampire reduced to the level of a miserable child. When he finally spoke, Alucard's voice was thin and reedy, "_Anything, anything but that. Burn my comic books and burn my coffin, just leave that man alone_."

Integra leaned in out of fascination; in a million years she would have never believed that Alucard had the capacity to bond with anybody in an emotional or intellectual capacity. Obviously she'd seen him bond with Walter but she'd thought that was the exception that proved the rule.

He went on in his pitiful voice, "_That man has earned his immortality by forging ahead with his own will and making his own path. He is the missing half of my soul; he is my better half. I love him like Ivan the terrible loved his first wife. If he dies then my connection to the hearts of the world will be lost and I will be truly dead inside_."

Then his chest started to shake and he began to sob. Seras put a hand over her mouth to stifle her own sobs. He had always been a sadistic bastard to her; but she never wanted to see him tormented like this.

The gravity of the situation was beginning to become apparent to Integra; now she understood what her father meant when he said in his journals that Alucard was a medicine to be used only sparingly. Seeing him in this state was a truly concrete example of the power Integra had over him. She didn't just have power over him, she had authority; he accepted the power she had.

Integra didn't believe that Alucard had been born evil; she did believe that he'd been born twisted. His branches had been warped and it had made him susceptible to evil.

Integra spoke to her servant in a voice that was so maternal that it surprised even her, "Alucard, just calm down, I order it of you."

He twisted twice as if trying to escape invisible hands but stopped. When he lay still, his master continued to talk in that firm, but gentle voice, "I won't have you kill Carlisle Cullen; he hasn't eaten anyone. I admit that I was being a bit harsh, but you will still be punished."

Slowly, unsteadily, Alucard started to pick himself up as his master conferred her new instructions. "I am not going to order you to destroy your coffin or your ridiculous Batman collection, but know that I have the power to have it done."

Rapidly, Alucard was gaining his characteristic arrogance and demeanour; accordingly, Integra's manner grew decreasingly gentle. "I am your master, Alucard; you will obey me to the letter. I will tolerate no garbage from you Alucard. You will respect me if it kills you."

Alucard dusted off his coat, "Of course, master. Now, do you plan to enforce my respect for you?"

Integra nodded, "Naturally; as penance, I want you to shave your head."

His didn't have an outburst this time, but it his distaste was painfully clear. Integra truly enjoyed seeing him like this. "And when you are within England's borders, you will not be able to disguise your baldness with hats or wigs. I want all of England to see your head shaven down to the scalp until it shines. Do I make myself clear, servant?

He grimaced and curtsied with his jacket, "Of course, it will be done."

The Hellsing director smiled and her glasses flashed in the fluorescent lights, "Good, now go and report to the barber on the base and you are not to give him or her any trouble."

_Fifteen minutes later _

They tried not to laugh. Really; they tried so hard. It took all of their willpower to keep from laughing at Alucard. They knew that if they laughed at them, he'd get them. If he got them, most likely he would make them cry. If he got them to cry, it was most likely he would laugh. And it would hurt.

Despite all that though, Zohall and Seras couldn't help but smirk and snort as Alucard walked towards the military plane from Britain that would take him back to London.

Gone was the No-Life King's waist length mane of jet black hair. Until Integra gave the word, he would no longer be able to regrow his hair. Alucard's head looked like a shiny white cue ball; Zohall could almost see his reflection in that undead dome.

Admittedly, he looked a lot smaller without his hair; almost half his usual size. A deep scowl etched his features; he was going to beat the snot out of any son of a bitch who dared to make fun of him in this state.

Trying to suppress a smile, Seras walked up to her sire, "Master, have a good trip."

"Shut up, Police Girl."

Zohall tried to say goodbye but he was cut off by the trump card of Hellsing, "Don't talk to me. Right now, all I want to do is get on that airplane, climb into my coffin and cry like a little girl until I get back to London. Then I'm going to take out my anger on any vampire that crosses my path."

Zohall just shrugged off Alucard's rotten mood, "Whatever floats your boat, dude." He added as an afterthought, "By the way, I'm entering into a _Halo _multiplayer contest in a month; want to sign up? There's still time to do that."

Alucard was stunned by Zohall's kind gesture, which was very profound considering that he'd hidden a box of one hundred scorpions in Zohall's underwear drawer half a year ago. Zohall still had some scorpion scars today and the occasional nightmare about a certain kind of stinger bearing arachnids. "I'll consider it," he huffed. Then he got onto the plane and began to cry as soon as he lay in his coffin.

Integra, Seras and Zohall watched as Alucard's plane took off. Integra spat out the chewed nub of her cigar and turned to her underlings, "You two know what we have to do next."

Seras just looked at Zohall as if looking for a clue. Then she turned to Integra, "Actually, we have no idea what to do; you never explained what we had to do after we set master straight."

Zohall had to agree, "All you said was that we had to punish the big red guy and then that was it." His handsome face was the paragon of honesty.

Integra smiled at the ignorance of her minions, how little they knew. "My meeting with Tony Soprano at the wedding is going to take place one way or another. I need you two to stay here and maintain security." There was more, "You two are going to keep an eye on the resident vampires."

Zohall turned to Seras, "Is she talking about the guys that went nuts when she bashed that guy's car?"

Seras nodded, "That's right; a routine mission that went bollocks up at the end."

_La Push reservation, Washington State_

Sitting on a porch was an ancient Amerindian man named Quil Ateara. 'Round these parts he was known alternately as Old Quil or Old man Ateara. In his community, Old man Ateara was respected and venerated by many in his tribe. He was an elder and a tribal chief by blood; here in the La Push Indian reserve he was practically royalty.

But as respected as Old Quil was among his people; few of the Quileute tribe would ever guess just how many secrets he guarded or how deep his knowledge ran. No; for he was one of the few in the tribe that knew the truth behind the ancient stories. He knew intimately the stories of the men of his tribe turning into wolves. He knew this because he'd seen his own father transform into a wolf and he'd seen his grandson go through the same transformation.

The transformation was triggered by the presence of vampires; during his generation there had been none of the accursed beasts. Therefore, old Quil and those of his generation had never known what it was like to transform into a wolf and fuck up some vampires.

He'd been ready for it; the day that the cold ones had returned. When the first of the tribe's youth had started their first change, he'd been there. These were strange times; all of the omens pointed to it. In the old days, no more than three of the tribe's young men had changed. Now, there were at least seven wolves patrolling their ancestral lands. And when some months ago that strange force moved into town that caused all the women in town and on the reservation to temporarily become lesbians, several more young men had begun the change.

In some months from now, a batch of young men would swell the ranks of the wolves to seventeen! Great spirits of the sea and forest, there was even a female wolf among the ranks. Times were changing, Old Quil was sure of it. As of late his dreams were haunted by a pale faced man in red duster and fedora. Whatever was going on; this man must be at the heart of it all.

And then his wolf grandson had given him an IPod for his birthday. He was eighty two years old; what the fuck was he going to do with an IPod?

Old Quil's pondering was interrupted by the presence of a car. A blue suburban peeled down the dirt road in front of the Ateara home. Out or curiosity, he followed the car's progress until it screeched to a halt in front of his home. From the car, some of the strangest people he'd ever seen climbed out and started walking towards him.

***

The Hellsing crew was lost and it was a case of the blind leading the blind. Seras took shotgun while Zohall, their resident American was the driver. Integra didn't trust Mr. Mercer's driving skills so she had given the wheel originally to the Police Girl. Unfortunately, Seras was unable to adapt to the American fashion of driving on the right hand side of the road. Hence, the driving was transferred over to Zohall, who was a God awful driver no matter what side of the road he drove on.

On their way to the town of Forks, they had gotten lost. Then they found the town. Then they realized that, after three hours of inquiry and searching, the Cullens did not live in the town but instead lived some distance around it. Someone was kind enough to give them direction but both of the two bunglers in the front of the car had forgotten the instructions and taken a wrong turn.

Now Integra found herself in the middle of a bloody Indian reserve which according to poached Vatican intelligence files was full of werewolves. Vatican files were incomplete as to the relationship of the Indians to the werewolves but Integra knew that they must tread cautiously.

Since Zohall was an American, he must know how to deal with these people. "Mr. Mercer," instantly, Zohall stopped bickering with Seras and tuned in to his boss's instructions.

"Yes sir?"

"Mr Mercer, you are from this country; what etiquette is required when dealing with these natives?"

Honestly, there hadn't been any Indians where Zohall had grown up. Raccoon city was as white as a sheet of paper. Looking back on it, Zohall was taken aback by the ethnic diversity on the part of the zombies which had decimated the town. He answered Integra to the best of his abilities, "Well, to be honest, what kind of special diplomatic crap you need to pull with these guys. If you want my advice, just be polite, be discreet; and if they pull a gun on you, put those fuckers down!" He laughed at the last bit and patted the gun in his pocket.

Integra rolled her eyes at Zohall; for all his pretty green eyes, sculpted body and supernatural swordsmanship, the man was utterly useless. From shotgun, Seras looked to the right and announced, "There's an old man there; let's ask him for directions."

The advice sounded solid to Zohall but he needed Integra's approval to go ahead with it. A simple nod from Integra and young Mercer's foot slammed down on the brake pedal.

Integra instructed her underlings, "Seras will come with me; Mr. Mercer, you will stay in this car."

The man nodded, "Yes, sir."

Integra thrust a finger in his face, "Stay, Mr. Mercer, stay." She was talking to him as if he were a dog. He hated it when she did this. He did not have ADHD! He was just a very hyper person by nature. He irritated drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and mumbled affirmation.

"Yes, sir."

Seras stepped out of the car and into the sunlight. It was supposed to be extremely cloudy out in this town. Seras liked cloudy weather; it was better than sunny weather for her condition. Since she'd drained the blood of a human mercenary named Pip Bernadotte in Brazil, she no longer had to fear exploding into flame in sunlight. Still, she soon would come to understand why her master hated sunlight.

When Alucard walked into the sunlight, he made it look so easy; that image could not be farther from the truth. Stepping into the sunlight, Seras felt like there were a thousand needles being driven into every square centimetre of her skin. The slightest breeze was agony and human touch was so painful that if she wasn't ready for it she might kill or injure someone when her body spasmed.

Another problem with being in sunlight was that she was nearly blind; Seras' eagle keen vision in direct sunlight became less acute than a human's weak vision. Big sunglasses and a large smearing of zinc oxide sunscreen helped her cope with the sun's hostile rays, but it would still be a tiring ordeal for Seras. Sticking to shaded areas or going out on a cloudy day would help. When she left the sun, she'd be left weary and tired. This malaise would only be cured with several hours spent in her coffin.

With Zohall under control, Seras and Integra marched towards the slightly ramshackle house where the ancient Native American man was sitting. Adjusting her great big aviator glasses, she strode alongside Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing.

Integra was regretting not borrowing a car with a global positioning system; hindsight is always sharper than foresight. Still, this would not hinder her. She was of the Hellsing family and thus was born with leadership skills and a preternatural sense of direction. With just a bit of help from the locals, everything should be fine.

She did have a personal reason for coming back to this town. This pitiful spit of a town had beaten her once before in the form of a stupid girl with a miraculously unreadable mind. She had not found the location of the stolen silver and was no closer today. She'd lost the battle, but not the war. She would bend this town to her will and with a little bit of unwanted help from that fat sleaze ball Tony Soprano, she'd find out who'd screwed her over.

***

Old Quil silently gazed at the strangers who were walking towards him. One of them was in the lead, a powerful warrior woman; he could tell by her wait and poise. Her skin was dark but her hair was pale, as were her steel blue eyes.

The second one was light haired, but unlike the leader women she had light skin and unbelievably large mammaries. Old Quil might have been over eighty years old but he was still young enough to appreciate a well stacked girl with wicked awesome hips and thighs just the way he liked them.

But there was more to this young woman of large boobs; something that sent a shiver up the elder's spine. As Seras's sexy boots made noise on the steps of the Ateara house, Old Quil's eyes widened because he knew exactly what she was.

Integra and Seras stepped into the shade of the porch; the shade caused a visible decline in Seras discomfort. Integra hated to put Seras through this torment, but the girl had volunteered for it. As she'd been instructed, Seras was to take point and ask the old man for directions. Integra refused to use her feminine whiles on any man when he fists would do the trick just as easily, she had no problems exploiting Seras womanly charms for her own ends.

Seras started what would become a total disaster of a conversation, "Hello, my friend and I are lost and we need directions."

_SMACK!_

Seras' head whipped to the side as Old Quil slapped her in the face. The force of the blow caused Seras sunglasses to fly askew. Stunned by the old man's reaction, Seras said "ouch." She then looked at the old man with an expression of girlish hurt and surprise, "That was totally uncalled for."

Integra raised an eyebrow at the man's unusual behaviour but otherwise seemed unperturbed about an octogenarian Indian smacking Seras in the face. Rather than risk Police Girl getting another slap, she attempted to talk to the man. "Sir, if you don't mind; we are in need of directions and I would ask you very kindly to assist us."

_SMACK!_

Old Quil slapped Seras again. "Ouch." Seras winced and rubbed her stinging cheek; old Quil's heavy handedness was causing her sunscreen to come off.

Integra continued to try and reason with the man. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a map and started to unfold it. As she unfolded her map, she explained to Old Quil, "It is essential that you help us because we are looking to meet with a group of people."

She held out the map in front of Old Quil and said to him, "Please point out on this map of the local area where we can find the home of the Cullen family?"

_SMACK!_

This time it was Integra who took a smack to the face; she was not happy about it, not one bit. Clenching her fists in fury, Integra gave Old Quil a glare that could have wiped the smirk off of Alucard's face. To his credit, the ancient tribal elder held his ground and did not avoid Integra's gaze.

The Hellsing leader spoke in a voice that was hard and dangerous, "Listen, old man; if you touch me one more time, I'll snap your neck like a twig."

Old Quil wasn't afraid of anything, but he wasn't crazy enough to slap Integra a second time so he slapped Seras.

_SMACK!_

Instead of saying, "Ouch," Seras smacked Old Quil in the face in imitation of what he'd done to her.

_SMACK!_

Old Quil's head snapped back in surprise; he fought down the urge to cradle his stinging cheek. His surprise turned into outrage; how dare this _risen dead_ strike him, a tribal leader. He smacked her right back

_SMACK!_

Seras wasn't going to take any more so she slapped Old Quil a second time.

_SMACK!_

Old Quil's head spun back with the force of the impact but he got right back at it and smacked Seras in retribution.

_SMACK!_

Seras was infuriated; her anger caused her to be unable to think clearly. In the Nosferatu brain, the frontal lobes are atrophied in several places; scientists believed that this atrophy was the cause behind the Nosferatu species emotional instability and overall insanity. Seras slapped Integra in the face.

_SMACK!_

Integra was stunned by the blow and her glasses were knocked akimbo. Instantly she focused her furious gaze on Seras.

She tried to apologize but it was too late, "Sir Integra—

_POW!_

Integra didn't slap Seras; she punched Seras right in the mouth and sent Alucard's fledgling spinning like a top.

As Seras tried to right herself, Old Quil took advantage of this and slapped her in the face,

_SLAP!_

Outraged by this, Integra smacked Old Quil back.

_SMACK!_

Old Quil smacked Integra back.

_SMACK!_

Seras smacked Old Quil.

_SMACK!_

Integra smacked Seras because she was losing track of things.

_SMACK! _

Old Quil smacked Seras again.

_SMACK!_

Integra had had enough of this shit. She pushed Seras aside and grabbed Old Quil by his shirt collar and lifted him out of his chair. With the crinkled map still in her hand she shouted at the top of her lungs, "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU; YOU BLOODY SAVAGE!!!!! DON'T YOU SPEAK ANY ENGLISH!?!?!?"

To his credit, Old Quil didn't avoid Integra's fiery stare but he did try to avoid her breath; she very badly needed a mint and Seras and Zohall had been too polite to say something about it. Alucard was the only person thus far with the balls to tell Integra that her mouth smelled like an ashtray.

Before anybody could get killed somebody called out, "Hey!"

Both Seras and Integra looked around to locate the source of the voice addressing them. It was one of the lads from the reserve. As a matter of fact, it was Quil's own grandson, also named Quil. "What the hell is going on?" the young man asked.

Not wishing for the violence to escalate further than it already had, Integra set let go of Old Quil's shirt and straightened out the map in her hand.

Although her cheeks retained the rosy pallor of a tuberculosis victim, Seras was in fact shocked by the sight of Old Quil's grandson. The most obvious thing about him was that his muscular body was revealed greatly by his rather scanty clothing. Dressed in only a tight pair of jean shorts, Seras thought that young Quil looked like a gay go-go dancer. Actually, Seras imagined that young Quil must be a real stallion under those tight shorts. Immediately, she purged her might of all naughty thoughts involving the six and a half foot Quileute lad and tried to get her mind on the job again.

Integra on the other hand wasn't even fazed by young Quil's almost nudity or his seemingly inhuman grace. Bold as ever she was, Integra strode right up to young Quil and spoke in a voice steady as steel, "Nothing happened here; we were just asking for directions and there was a misunderstanding."

She could feel the heat radiating off of Quil; it was like he'd gone for a long run or had gained a high fever. It was of no consequence why he was so warm.

Quil looked at Integra with suspicion; he didn't like it when people treated his grandfather without proper respect. Plus her style of dress was really freaky. "What kind of misunderstanding did you guys have?"

"That is not important. What is important is that my friend and I get directions and very soon."

"Where are you headed?"

"We're looking for the residence of the Cullen family."

Instantly, Quil's eyes burned with hatred for the traditional enemies of his people. He warned Integra, "Do yourself a favour, stay away from the Cullens; they're bad news."

Integra gritted her teeth; she did not have time for this shit. "I don't care about any risks you might imagine that there are. Tell me where I can find them."

Quil only glared as his grandfather watched with approval, "Trust me lady, you don't want to get involved with them. Do yourself a favour and stay away."

Now Integra was starting to lose her temper, "Listen to me,_ young man_; you are going to tell me where the Cullens live. I order it!"

"What are they to you anyways?"

Before Integra could kick young Quil in the groin and beat the Cullen's address out of him, Seras had to interrupt, "Sir Integra, Zohall is missing!"

Integra couldn't believe it; actually she could. She cursed, "Oh shit." She then shouted at Seras, "Find him!"

At human speed, Seras ran and Integra followed. Shouting over her shoulder at Old and young Quil, Integra hollered, "We'll be back!"

This left Quil alone with his granddad. He turned to his grandfather, "What was that?" He'd seen a lot of things during his short tenure as a wolf but he'd never seen anything like two girls from England, one a butch lesbian and the other a stripper dressed up like a paramilitary soldier before.

Old Quil groused, "That shorter girl was a vampire."

This caused the young warrior to look at his grandfather, "What? She can't have been a vampire; I saw her walking in the sun."

The ancient man continued, "She was one of the risen dead, the ones who are many; the stronger of their kind can walk in the light of day. You should know all of this."

Quil had to admit his granddad had a point, "But come on, she didn't attack or anything."

"Vampires are patient, some are very clever: she was probably surveying a new feeding ground."

There was something that was still bothering Quil tough, "If she was a vampire, how come I couldn't smell her."

Old Quil shook his head. The fucking kids these days; you spent three hours of your life re-teaching them all of the ancient myths of their people that they should have remembered and then the next day they act like they have short term memory loss. He explained to his grandson, "Quil, you're in your human form. Her kind of vampire is treacherous and live by deceit; their illusions are designed specifically to fool the eyes of humans. I only saw her for what she was because I've been a keeper of the legends for my whole life and I know how to spot them."

Quil the younger apologized for his lack of memory and common sense, "Sorry, grandpa."

Old Quil grumbled, "Sorry; don't be sorry, be vigilant and use your head."

His grandson paused to chew his words a bit. "Should I go after her?"

He shook his head, "No, there are too many people for her to take hostage and you might be seen. Follow her and make sure that she leaves our lands; call for the rest of the pack."

Quil nodded and bounded off with the grace and speed of a gazelle. The existence of the wolves was supposed to be very hush-hush, nobody outside of the top elders and the immediate families of the wolves was supposed to know.

***

tracked Zohall by scent, Integra kept pace behind her. It didn't take long to find Zohall. The two women found him standing on the edge of Forks' green forests surrounded by a small band of Quileute children. The children, between ages fifteen and twelve were showering Zohall in hero worship. What exactly he'd done to garner hero worship from these kids in such a short time Seras had no idea, but she could smell blood.

On the ground there was a small child of approximately two years old, a girl. She was being cradled by another girl who was might have been an older sister. The two year old had puffy eyes, as if she'd been weeping; and she had a large amount of blood on her knee.

Seras stiffened at the sight of the blood. It didn't make her thirsty exactly; there was thirst but there was much more. The redness of the blood caused Seras to hear a noise in her head, like a heartbeat or the noise of drums. It was a call to violence and depravity, a cadence to arms. Somehow, she suppressed the urge.

She had no more time to focus on the blood because at that moment young Quil barrelled past her and knocked her down. He then stooped down and scooped up the young girl in his arms. Immediately, the six foot plus, two hundred and sixty pound all muscle Quileute man-wolf warrior started bawling like a baby and asking his "Clair bear" if she was okay.

Zohall was having the time of his life. He'd just saved a little kid's life and he was pretty good. He'd tried to wait in the car while Seras and Integra were having a catfight with an old man, but it was hard for him.

He wasn't totally sure what had happened that had lured him out of the car. It had something to do with a rabbit; maybe it was a vampire rabbit. Whatever the case, Zohall had taken his massively long sword and Desert Eagle handgun with him to take out a rabbit.

The rabbit had been fast but it didn't know what kind of endurance Zohall possessed. Working out alongside with Leon Scott Kennedy, one of the most physically fit men in the world had done him plenty of good.

The rabbit, vampire or not had led him to a group of houses on the edge of the forest. A bunch of kids were playing near the woods, one of them was a little girl supervised by an older girl. It was just when some of the kids were noticing him that a cougar shot out of the bush and went right for the girl. Zohall had been a distance from the child; some might say a big distance. He would have begged to differ. In a flash of his leather coat and the gleam of his straight bladed sword, he'd leapt at the cougar with speed that was positively inhuman.

When he reached the child, the cougar had already slashed at her knee with its sharp claws and was preparing to go for a kill. Two year old Claire's cries of pain and fear had galvanized him to move fast.

With his eyes almost as green as the temperate rainforest of the east coast, Zohall had struck at the cougar when Integra, Seras and Old Quil were having a slap-fest.

He ran parallel to the mountain lion and sliced it across the ribs, parallel to the ground. His sword, named Gleam had sliced cleanly through the cougar's ribs and eviscerated the left lung on the animal. Not willing to give the injured wild animal a chance at retaliation, Zohall promptly chopped off the fucker's head.

Hey kitty, when you get to hell, tell em' Zohall sent ya.

After that, things became another blur. Once the local kids had seen had overcome their wariness over his sword, they'd praised him as a hero for saving one of their own. In his peripheral vision he saw young Quil hugging Claire as his boss and his co-worker approached. Turning his head, he saw one of the fifteen year olds fooling around with his sword. "Watch it," he cautioned the kid, "that thing is sharp enough to do eye surgery with."

He then noticed how pissed off Integra was. Consequences were a bitch, especially when it was Integra that you disobeyed. Oh well, Zohall wasn't the type of person who let the little things bother him. Not that Integra's temper was a little thing.

As the Hellsing leader stormed up to him, he resumed conversation with a bunch of the kids. Off at the houses, the parents were just coming out in full force; some of them were making phone calls for an ambulance. "So, how many of you guys watch _Avatar: The Last Air bender?"_

Greeted by a chorus of affirmative responses, Zohall felt his heart become tickled by these russet coloured kids. They would be the inheritors of tomorrow and their love of _The Last Air Bender_ was proof that they would prevail and prosper. Plus, Zohall fucking loved that show.

Integra shoved Quil aside and stormed up to Zohall, "Where the hell have you been, Mr. Mercer?"

Zohall decided to deflect the situation with a bit of levity; he bent down and retrieved something off the ground.

During his employment with Hellsing, Integra had learned of what were some things to expect from Zohall Mercer. When he thrust a cougar's head into her face and said, "Who wants cougar kisses?" she was not expecting that.

And instead of laughing or admiring the cougar's severed head, Integra jumped back and shouted, "Good God!"

Young Zohall turned to Seras, who was shocked as hell to see him holding a cougar's head. She had nothing to say; just couldn't think of anything. He said to her, "Hey Seras, I'm the Predator; I'm taking skulls for trophies."

"You idiot!" Integra screamed at him, "Where the hell have you been?"

Before he could answer that he'd been chasing a vampire bunny that may have been a figment of his imagination, Integra cut him off."

"Forget it, we are leaving this place to find directions because you two idiots" Seras knew that Integra was also referring to her, "have lost the map to the Cullens home."

Zohall looked at the ground in shame; several of the La Push kids quieted down, trying to see what had gotten him down. "Can I keep the cougar head?"

Integra's migraine headache was getting worse. Going for another cigar and her lighter, she tersely informed her American underling, "Yes, just get a move on."

As she turned to exit with her henchmen, she found that her path was blocked by six and a half feet of Quil. Cradled in his arms was a small child who he'd manage to calm down. Behind Quil, she could see some parents running towards them. This was the last thing Integra wanted because she had no desire to stick around and explain to the parents of the La Push reservation what they were doing here.

Quil spoke, "That man saved Claire's life."

"You're welcome," Integra ground out; she had wasted enough time today as it was.

"Claire would like to thank him," he stroked the little girl's hair.

Integra conceded, "Make it quick; I am a very busy woman."

Holding the cougar's head under his arm, Zohall turned to the lad that was playing with his sword, "Hey buddy, sorry but I'm going to need that back." The kid groaned but handed Zohall back his sword; it was the coolest sword he'd ever seen and he doubted that he'd ever see such a cool sword again. When he and his friends visited Port Angeles next, he was going to buy a knife. Not that any knife could match the grandeur of Zohall nodachi like blade.

Securing his beloved sword to the holster in his back, Zohall stepped to face Quil and Claire. Quil was used to people being intimidated by his great height and musculature; particularly those who were not familiar to him. But when Zohall looked him in the eye, he did so without any fear.

Zohall had seen unspeakable horrors; battled against the most unspeakable demons of the human psyche, brought to life by the power of a virus and the twisted will of amoral scientists. An over muscled Native American hardly put a scare into Zohall; especially when he was cradling a two year old as gently as the child's own mother.

A child of the nineteen nineties, Zohall introduced himself as such, "Yo dude, what's up? I'm Zohall Mercer."

"Quil Ateara." For a moment, Quil looked down at the little girl; his imprint. When one of the wolves of the tribe imprinted on a woman, that woman would become the center of his universe. Little Clair had become the center of his universe and he'd loved her like a brother and father combined.

Claire was burying her face in Quil's chest; her parents had always told her never to talk to strangers and this blond haired, green eyed man was certainly strange. She only budged from her little nook in her protector's arms when Quil told her in a gentle voice, "Claire-bear, what did you want to say?"

Claire said something that Zohall couldn't make out, so he leaned in slightly closer. "Sorry, could you say that again?"

Claire's voice was just a tiny squeak, "Thank you."

For a few seconds Zohall didn't react; he wasn't even aware of Claire's father who had shown up on the scene to claim his daughter and interrogate Quil about what was happening. He wasn't even aware that he'd dropped the cougar's head and some kid's mom was chasing him away from the cougar's headless carcass.

As he tried to reassure Claire's dad, Quil noticed that Zohall was turning red in the face. As Claire was taken away by her father, Quil felt his heart sink; then he turned to Zohall. "Are you okay, dude?"

To his great surprise, the swordsman gasped as if he were about to burst into tears.

Zohall was choking on emotion and his eyes were starting to water. "Oh shit," he gasped, "I'm not going to cry; I can't cry!"

From inside one of the pockets in his long, dull green trench coat, Zohall pulled out a bottle of six hour energy drink. As he unscrewed the cap his fingers, calloused from weapons training trembled. He was hyperventilating when he finally got the cap off.

Without further ceremony, Zohall downed the six hour energy drink in one single go. Very soon, the emotional shock of the little girl's thanks was replaced by a pounding heart and the rush of caffeine and a witch's brew of stimulants.

Quil was freaked out by Zohall's outlandish behaviour; who wouldn't be? He reassured himself that he was one of the tribe's wolves; this strange man with an oversized sword should pose no threat to him. Yet there was something to those green eyes that was more than common; he'd have to consult his grandfather on this. For now though he enquired after Zohall's health. "Are you alright?"

Back to his normal hyperactive self, Zohall merely waved Quil off. "Ah, I'm fine; it's just the job, it's very stressful."

Quil wondered what kind of stress Zohall's job entailed that he needed to bury his demons with energy drinks. "Thanks."

"No prob; I'd have done it with three limbs amputated and one eye missing." He flashed a winning smile at Quil that was just all sorts of manly. Abruptly though, Zohall's temperament turned semi serious. "Do you know where the Cullens live?"

Immediately, Quil's countenance darkened; he owned this man the world for saving his imprint but he could not forget the ancestral grudge his people held against the Cullens. A war between Quileute and Cullen might be held back by a century old treaty but Quil and those like him were bred not only to kill vampires but to hate them as well.

More respectfully than he'd told Integra, he informed Zohall of something. "I can't tell you that; if you go to that house you have no idea what you're dealing with."

Zohall was completely serious now but there was also patience in his manner. "I get why you don't want me or my boss to go there; I know what they are."

Quil's eyes widened in surprise; how could these strange people know of the Cullens' secret. Mentally he slapped himself; grandfather had said that the chesty one was a vampire. This man was affiliated with vampires, but he'd saved a young child. Quil didn't know what to make of this man or his allies. "What do you want?"

Zohall stepped closer; he could actually feel Quil's inhumanly high body temperature. "Look fellah, we've all got secrets; me and the boss have ours. We're with the British government; big James Bond type stuff that I can't even begin to tell you about. I can tell you one thing though, lives are at stake."

Quil exhaled; he didn't know what to make of this. He'd called Sam, the pack alpha; he would know what to do.

Zohall implored of the large Native America, "I'm serious; I know what the Cullens are and I need to meet with them; I have to. It's a matter of national security."

Zohall decided to play the Raccoon City card, "I've been fighting monsters for most of my life; I know what it takes to kill monsters and I know that sometimes you've got to go talk with the weaker monsters before you can get a crack at the really bad monsters."

It wasn't an easy thing that Zohall was asking, but Quil decided to humour this young fighter. "Sure, I'll give you directions; if they kill you I'll avenge you."

The former Raccoon City resident practically jumped on the spot with joy, "Sweet!" Looking behind Quil, he tried to shout for Integra and Seras, "Hey guys-

He didn't finish his sentence because Integra and Seras were long gone. "Oh shit!" Reaching down to the ground, he picked up his cougar's head and bid Quil goodbye, "See ya, dude; thanks!" Snatching his sword back, Zohall was ready to boogey on out of here.

Taking off with the speed of the wind, he arrived just in time to see Seras and Integra starting to drive off without him. He screamed at them and waved the cougar's head frantically, "Wait! Don't leave me here!"

Inside the car, Integra watched from the passenger's seat as Zohall ate dust from the car's tires. She heard Seras pipe up, "Should I stop for him?"

Integra sighed with reluctance, "Very well; stop."

The dust from the dirt road obscured his view; he heard the vehicle stop but he didn't see where it stopped. Painfully he ran right into the back of the car with a metallic _bonk_! Integra didn't even bat an eyelash when she heard and felt Zohall hit the back of the car.

Groaning, the young American picked himself up and tried to brush the dust off of his beloved coat; his knees felt like they'd been hit with a ballpeen hammer. Limping up to Integra's window, he tapped on the glass to signal that she open it. After a few seconds the power window rolled down. Integra had a warning for her underling. "You have two seconds to get into this car or else I will order Miss Victoria to leave you behind."

Zohall panted, "Wait, I've got to do something." Without warning he threw the dusty, bloody cougar's head into Integra's lap, causing the Hellsing heir to squirm like a little girl with a worm down her dress.

Old Quil sat in his chair on the porch; evil forces were afoot, he could feel it. Glancing to the right, he became aware of the young man sprinting (albeit painfully) towards him. It was the fellow who had been the driver for the vampire and the butch woman.

Breathing heavily, Zohall ran up to Old Quil's porch. "Hey man; sorry if we caused any trouble. Integra didn't mean anything bad."

_SMACK!_

Old Quil smacked Zohall across the face.

Zohall didn't know what to say. "Well . . . have a nice day." And he was off again just as Seras began to drive off without him again.

_Cullen House, Washington State_

All of the Cullens sat in their living room. Behind them, an entire wall of windows let in the sunlight that was rapidly being obscured by cloud. They sparkled radiantly in the sun; Bella never grew tired of seeing them like this.

As the last of the sun's rays were blanketed by cloud and the sparkling stopped, Alice Cullen turned to her adopted brother Edward. "Call it, Edward."

Edward mentally groaned as he read Alice's mind but complied with her wishes. "The Hellsing leader will arrive in five . . . four . . . three"

The front door was shaken by a knock.

"Two."

"It's open," called Carlisle, the Cullen Patriarch.

"One."

The door opened and Bella couldn't help but gasp; the leader of Hellsing was the crazy woman who'd trashed Jasper's jeep.

* * *

Alright! We are done with that! I had originally meant for this chapter to be a single piece but it grew so big that it had to be split in half. If you're looking for another good crossover of Hellsing and Twilight, I reccomend _Alliances_ by blacksand1. I hope you enjoyed it and here's a sneak peak of part 2 ;)

_Integra calmly stated to Bella, "So far we have what appears to me to be a series of victimless crimes._

_"What about the toe?" Bella whined. _

_"FORGET ABOUT THE FUCKING TOE!" Integra screamed as she slammed her fist down on the counter, causing her coffee cup to jump. _

Ta

Master of the Boot


	30. The Toe Part 2

The big Hellsing: Chapter Thirty-three

The Toe: Part 2

See the usual disclaimers.

_City of Jersey, Junior Soprano's residence_

On a sofa in a modestly priced Jersey apartment sat two men. One was a great fat carcass of a man well on with male baldness of the scalp. The other was a stick of an old man with large glasses and an expression that seemed to say that he was not amused.

Tony Soprano and Corrado "Uncle Junior" Soprano were watching TV together. Technically, Uncle Junior was supposed to be the boss of the criminal empire that had a stranglehold over all of Jersey. Unfortunately for Junior, the feds were clinging to him like barnacles to a ship. He had been under house arrest for nearly five years now; a prisoner in his own home.

This naturally meant that Tony was the unofficial boss of the family, meaning that _he_ was the boss. Of course, he did try to be nice to Uncle Junior while he shamelessly manipulated his uncle for his own selfish ends.

On the TV screen, the New York Jets were losing the game. Junior did not approve of this; besides, it was a fucking shitty game anyways. Wincing at the appallingly bad football, Junior called over to his overweight nephew, "Shut this shit off; it's a disgrace to watch."

Shifting lazily in his spot, Tony grabbed the TV remote and flipped it onto the Discovery Channel. Now instead of a bunch of three hundred pound men, the screen was full of animals being commented on by a stuffy British guy. It was good; Tony liked animals, but he'd bet a large sum of money on the Jets losing. It looked like his bet was a sure win now.

Lazily, Uncle Junior enquired of his obese nephew, "So what's the news on your end of things?"

Tony replied equally lazily, "I gotta get into a meeting with Integra Hellsing."

The mention of the Hellsing leader caused Corrado to perk up. "Integra? How's she doing these days?"

"Bitchy, butch and loud," Tony was honest with his uncle.

Corrado scoffed at his nephew's seeming disregard for Integra. "I remember her when she was a little girl; she was the sweetest kid you'd ever met." His glowing recollections of the past darkened. "Then her old man died and she met that piece of shit, Alucard."

Tony ever so slightly began to tune out his uncle and focused on the announcer on TV announcer as he went on about some very interesting monkeys.

Junior rattled on. "That vampire son of a bitch. He's not healthy for a child to be around." He thrust a finger in his nephew's direction. "He's the reason that Integra became a lesbian."

Casually, Tony flipped back to the sports channel where the football game had just finished. "There's also the fact that her own uncle tried to kill her." This was a thinly veiled barb that expressed Tony's disdain for Richard Hellsing and hinted at how Uncle Junior had tried to kill Tony many years ago.

Junior pretended not to notice the hidden barb and began to rant about Richard Hellsing. "Richard, that cock sucking piece of shit. I never liked him. I always knew that there was something wrong about him. If only Alucard hadn't killed him; I'd have shown him what happens when you target little girls."

Tony nodded in agreement and a ghost of a smile graced his face. He knew that Integra had killed her uncle; it was something that he admired about her. Also, he would have loved to have been there if Uncle Junior had had a chance to "talk" to Uncle Richard. "That would have been fun."

They switched channels when a new football game started up. This one was much less shamefully played than the last. Corrado started to wax about the good old days. "I remember Arthur Hellsing. Me and your father Johnny had some great times with him. Nobody could drink like Arthur could. We'd get so fucking wasted it wasn't even funny."

Tony had begun to hear these stories shortly after an explosive encounter with Integra Hellsing had shown him the truth about vampires. She had saved his life; then his uncle revealed the grand Hellsing secret to which only a select few were privy.

Junior continued. "When we found out what Arthur did, your dad pissed his pants."

Tony had never heard this detail before; it was hard to imagine that his tough as nails dad would ever piss himself.

"Yeah, Johnny Boy and I got lost in the mansion at the end of the war. We were there keeping Arthur in luxury goods in between smuggling contraband with the British gangs. We wound up in the basement where we found a coffin. To make a long story short, Alucard snuck up behind us and scared the hell out of us. Then he gave your old man a charley horse so bad that he pissed himself in pain."

Tony momentarily took his attention away from Junior as one of the players scored an astounding field goal. He jumped off the couch and shouted. With the moment passed, Tony lowered his prodigious carcass back onto the couch. He couldn't really picture his father getting scared. The only person who'd ever gotten to Tony's dad was his mom.

Something didn't feel right. "Why did Arthur Hellsing tell you guys that he hunted vampires? That's supposed to be a secret."

"He was fucking high!" exclaimed Corrado. "He ran out of whiskey so he sent us to get him some, but he couldn't wait for us so he started drinking Drano!" Uncle Junior twisted in his seat. "He was seeing all kinds of demons and shit when we finally caught up to him." Junior then added, "He was fucked up for days after that and when he got better he swore me and Johnny to secrecy."

Tony started to drift off again as Uncle Junior droned on about how he and Johnny had kept Arthur Hellsing's secret.

Tony finally returned to the land of awareness when his uncle asked him a question. "So what's this meeting I hear about?"

Tony shifted his fat ass on the couch. "I lied to the feds, saying that Integra was with British organized crime. I can't be seen with Integra in any kind of business capacity unless I want the feds to start looking my way again. We can only be seen in a social setting so she and I are going to a wedding?"

"A wedding?" Corrado's eyes lit up behind his Coke bottle glasses.

Tony nodded and got up to get himself a drink. "Yeah, a wedding." He began to run the tap water so it could get cold. "We're meeting in some shithole town in Washington State. The meeting takes place in a couple of weeks."

"A wedding! You've got to take me with you."

Tony looked at his uncle with incredulity, delaying drinking from his glass. "What, no! You are not coming with us."

But Uncle Junior pleaded, "You've gotta get me out of here. I need to get out. I'm going fucking stir crazy!"

Tony really didn't want Uncle June to come and visit Integra with him, but he had to humour the old prick. "What about your lawyer? I thought he said you couldn't leave the house?"

Junior stood up, imploring his nephew. "He says that I can leave the house for wedding and funerals." The old man's voice became laden with anger "Jesus Christ! Fucking take me with you!"

Tony relented, there was nothing else that he could say or do that would make the old man stay here. He forced his words through a pained smile, "Fine, Uncle June, you can come with us." There were some days when Tony just wanted the old man to drop dead.

Corrado smiled, showing off his shiny new dentures. "You won't regret this, Anthony."

This pleasant family get-together was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Go see who that is," said Uncle Junior. Normally Tony didn't like to have his Uncle order him around but today was a special day, he had a surprise prepared. Opening the door, Tony was greeted by the sight of Erin Sorrel, the stripper girl who had become Tony's favourite source for a blow job.

In pure Italian-American joviality, Tony greeted the black haired stripper. "Hey Erin, good to see you!" He then pulled her into an unwelcome hug and squeezed her tight.

Quick as she could without pissing off her boss, Erin returned his greeting with an unenthusiastic, "Yeah, you too, Tony." At the start of this job, she didn't think it would be so bad, flash her tits and whatnot before drunken losers and get groped a bit. It should have been no big deal. If it had been any other strip joint, it would have been no big deal. However, Tony was able to make Erin hate her life like nobody else had. She hated the fat bastard, but was in too deep with him to quit now. Besides all that, she needed the money.

From the couch, Uncle Junior called out. "Who is it?"

Erin gasped as Tony grabbed on her shirt collar and dragged her into Junior's field of view. The mob boss cheerfully explained to his uncle, "This is Erin. She's a girl that's been dying to meet you."

"Hello good looking," Uncle Junior said in his best flirting voice.

Erin looked up at Tony, to Tony's uncle and back again. In a false cheery voice, Erin said to her boss, "Tony, could we talk?"

Uncle Junior shivered in his seat as Erin walked with Tony into the hallway. This was the finest piece of tail that he'd seen in some time.

"What the hell are you doing?" Erin hissed at Tony.

"My uncle is an old man. He's lonely. Help him out and do everything that he asks of you."

Of all the rotten things that Tony had asked of her this was where she drew the line. "Tony, I don't care who you are, but I am not fucking an old man!"

"Hey," Tony growled, "That's my uncle in there; show some respect."

"I'm not doing it, Tony."

He thrust a finger in her face, "You'll pleasure my uncle or you'll pleasure Marco Columbo here." On cue, a large hand clamped down in Erin's hand, belonging to a massive Italian American who had given Erin a lift here.

From out of his pocket, Marco pulled out a fifteen inch dildo covered in rusty barbed wire. The mere sight of it made all the color leave Erin's face. Marco told her, "I think this thing would look good in your ass."

Erin looked at Marco and his implement of _painful_ sex before she knew she'd been defeated. "I'll do it."

As Erin marched to certain sex with a ninety year old man, Tony began to chat it up with his henchman. "Thanks for the help, Marco. I couldn't have done it without you."

Marco nodded and put away his dildo of death. "Don't worry, boss; I'm always here for you."

Corrado's eye glinted as Erin hid her feelings of revulsion. Her sole comfort in this situation was that her friend Kallena was in a better situation and her other friend Kutsavi was in an even worse situation than this.

_Forks, Washington State, Cullen Residence_

The two parties stood opposite each other in the Cullen's vast and luxurious living room. A whole entire wall was made of glass. That way when the sun came out, the Cullens could soak up the rays even though they couldn't go outside. Normally this would be a bad thing for Seras Victoria since sunlight caused her agonizing pain, but it wasn't so bad since the sun had gone down a few minutes ago.

Bella Swan was in awe of Integra Hellsing now that she wasn't trying to shake her down for information. She carried herself with a regal air, like an empress. Despite her unorthodox and masculine appearance, Bella would bet any money that Integra held many of the same values as her favourite Jane Austin characters. Integra was probably steeped in an ideology of celibacy and aristocratic dignity. Bella was just the tiniest bit envious.

Integra strutted about the room, smoking her cigar and letting her waist length hair billow out much more dramatically than should have been possible. She walked down the line, surveying the Cullens and their human friend like with the keenness of a drill sergeant.

Alice caught Integra's eye first. The smallest Cullen was squirming in her seat and staring intently at Integra's face and hair. None of the other Cullens were moving. They all stood as stiff as statues.

Integra glared at Alice behind her fashionable glasses. "What are you staring at?"

Alice wasn't surprised because her power of seeing the future had alerted her that Integra would react this way. "I noticed that your bangs are standing up six inches. Can you please, _please_ tell me how you do that?"

Integra gave Alice a disbelieving look. Smoke from her cigar rose up lazily. She had even less tolerance for Alice's girly-girly shit than Bella did. Choosing to ignore Alice, Integra began to recite the speech that she'd written down earlier. "As you all are probably aware, my name is Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing and I am the leader of the Hellsing Organization."

Emmett looked up at Integra without a trace of intelligence. With a name like "Wingates," Integra had to be the most pretentious woman on the planet. Internally, Edward smiled at Emmett's observation.

The Hellsing heir continued, "At this point, every last one of us should be dead several times over. Since none of us are dead yet, I feel it is my duty to bring all of you up to date on my Organization's latest endeavour so that none of you will get in our way." Integra paused to take a drag on her cigar. "If all goes according to plan, you lot might be even of some assistance."

"Your servant raped my son, you heartless bitch!" Esme's normally melodious voice was harsh and grating as she directed all her motherly wrath at Integra.

Integra's natural reaction was to brush the woman off. Yes, Alucard had done some bad things in this neck of the woods, but there was serious work to be done. She turned to face the Cullen matriarch. "Madam, I assure you that punitive action against Alucard has been taken. Now, if you will let go of the past, I still have much to discuss."

Esme glared at Integra. She hadn't fed recently so her eyes were more black than topaz. Brushing a strand of caramel coloured hair over her eyes, she got up to comfort her son Jasper. Pulling her son into an embrace, she began to mother him unbearably. "It's alright Jasper, that man will never hurt you again. I promise you. Mommy promises you. I love you, Jasper. We all love you . . ."

Eventually, her mothering phrases became more and more broken and Esme started to squeeze Jasper tighter and sob. In his mother's crying embrace, Jasper was torn between total embarrassment and relief that his mother was doing this.

Jasper's empathic talent was causing the people in the room to feel his emotions. He didn't want them to feel what he felt, so he exclusively directed the emotional streams at his two brothers. If he had to suffer, then so did they. Both Emmett and Edward could be unbearable asses at times. This was Jasper's revenge.

Integra just stared at the scene like a woman who was totally out of her league. She was used to handling uppity bureaucrats, racist Prime Ministers who made off colour remarks about her brown skin and the scumbags from Iscariot. This was the first time she'd ever had to deal with angry mothers, traumatized sons and petty teenagers. Frankly, Integra would prefer to have to deal with the Iscariot types.

Her two idiot henchmen were no help at all. Seras just sat there looking chesty, as if it would kill her to contribute something to the situation. Judging by the confused look on her face, it wouldn't help one iota if she contributed anyway. Zohall was off in his own little world, shifting around like he had ants in his pants.

To Zohall, Integra called. "Mr. Mercer, are you listening."

"Hell no." Zohall said offhandedly. There was no malice in his voice, he was just checking out a bookshelf

Integra nodded. "Very good. Approach me, Mr. Mercer."

Zohall looked up, his mind now back in the real world and not in Zohall's ADHD wonderland. "What'd you need, Sir Integra."

Integra repeated herself. "I want you to approach me."

Without hesitation, Zohall strode up to his master. By now, Esme's sobs were starting to die down.

Zohall enquired of his boss, "What can I do for you?"

"Hold out your hand."

"Uh, what?"

Integra turned to him, her sapphire eyes burned brightly. "I said to hold out your hand."

With some trepidation, Zohall did as he was ordered. As soon as his calloused hand was held out, Integra thrust her cigar into his palm. She didn't burn him too badly, but it still sent quite a bit of pain through his nerves. His verbal outburst broke Esme out of her mother mode mindset.

"OH SHIT! GOD DAMMIT!!" Zohall started to jump around, desperately brushing his hand against his trench coat. Emmett openly laughed at the young man, voice booming loudly.

Bella just looked on in shock, her full lips forming an "O."

Seras looked like somebody has slapped her awake. She and Carlisle both ran to assist Zohall at the same time. Seras held the jumping man still while Carlisle examined the injury.

The Cullen doctor gave good news to Zohall, "The injury isn't serious. You won't even need a band-aid."

Zohall's eyes met Integra's. "What the hell was that for?"

Integra put her hands on her hips and answered sternly. "That was for not listening to what I had to say. Let that be a lesson to you."

It was that moment that Rosalie chose to add to the goings on. "Who the hell do you think you are, ordering my family around like this?"

Integra spun to face the silken haired Unstet. Her lip curled into a subtle sneer as Rose continued to disrespect her.

"So far all you've done is hurt our family. If you had any decency, you'd get out of here."

Rose wasn't used to humans that looked her straight in the eye when she got angry, but Integra did just that. Integra's heartbeat was so steady, even in a den of her family's sworn enemies. Integra said to Rosalie, "Young lady, you will stand down and yield before me or else I will be forced to show you my rape face."

Emmett's face twitched with confusion. "Your what?

"Rape face?" said Bella.

Edward however, pleaded with Integra. The picture he was getting from Integra, Zohall and Seras minds was not a pretty one. As much as a pain Rose could be, her heart could sometimes be in the right place and she didn't deserve to be subjected to Integra's rape face. "Please, don't do that. I beg of you."

Seras materialized behind Integra. "Please Sir Integra, don't do this. You shouldn't do this."

Zohall agreed, equally desperate to stop Integra from using the dreaded rape face. "Come on Integra, I know you've had a hard day but these people are innocent. They don't deserve it, please."

Rosalie crossed her arms in direct challenge of Integra. "I'm not scared of you. Do your worst!"

Quickly, Seras and Zohall covered their eyes. Seras shouted to the Cullens, "Nobody look!"

Bella couldn't get in a word edgewise before Edward covered her eyes. "Hey!" she protested to her boyfriend.

Rose stared down Integra . . . and then Integra put on her rape face.

_Rape face Rape face Rape face Rape face_

It was horrible, it was terrible, it was indescribable! Integra's expression was twisted into a mask of horrifyingly childish proportions. She looked like an evil toddler about to stab her parent to death. Her eyes were wide as saucers and watery. Her smile exposed no teeth. A little dribble of drool even ran down Integra's chin as she devoured Rose with her eyes. If you squinted, you could see some kind of a purple aura like Tokyo smog.

The effect on Rosalie was instantaneous. The pretentious young girl put her hands to the side of her face and screamed like the dickens. Shrieking in ultimate terror, Rosalie jumped into the strong arms of her husband and screamed his name. "EMMETT, save me!"

Timidly, Seras asked, "Is it over?"

Equally frightened, Zohall peeked between his fingers. "Yeah, it's over. Thank God for that."

Emmett was very protective of his family, doubly so of his wife. Still holding Rosalie in his arms, Emmett growled at Integra. The force of his growl caused Integra's glasses to vibrate. Tonally, it sounded like a tiger's growl but much rougher and more ferocious.

Integra however didn't flinch. Instead, she thrust her face right in front of Emmett's and then started to growl at him. "_Grrrrrrrr!_" She growl was nowhere near as intimidating as Emmett's was but she didn't care one whit. She wasn't scared of vampires, vampires were scared of her.

Before violence could explode, Seras jumped between her master and Emmett. Indeed, it was thanks to Seras massive and jiggly mammaries that Emmett refrained from attacking Integra. Emmett still preferred Rosalie's boobs, but Rosalie's boobs never jiggled or moved. So getting a glimpse of Seras chest was a new experience for him.

Seras attempted to salvage the situation. "If we could avoid any further hostilities, I think we should all try to hear one another out."

Her composure regained, Integra thanked the fledgling. "Thank you Seras."

The Cullens watched with scepticism, hostility, fascination and a bit of confusion.

"In a matter of a few short weeks, I understand that a wedding will take place in this town. Alucard has received an invitation but he will not be attention."

Everyone except for Carlisle breathed a sigh of relief. Carlisle was feeling more than a bit guilty; he thought for sure that Alucard would like his family. Instead, Alucard had been driven crazy by his family and driven them crazy in return. It was so much easier in the old days when it was just the two of them.

"On the day of the wedding, I will take Alucard's place and I will bring with me a very important guest with whom I have important matters to discuss."

Jasper broke the silence with his customary calm-but-potentially-psychotic voice. He rather sounded like Texan actor Tommy Lee Jones. "Who is this guest of yours?"

Integra didn't break pace, "that's not your concern. To conclude: I will attend the wedding and in the meantime Seras Victoria and Zohall Mercer will stay here in Forks to act as my security detail."

Seras waved timidly. "Hello."

Zohall took the cool approach. He held up both hands in a pantomime of guns and said to them, "Yo Cullens, wa'sup?"

Integra indicated Seras, "Seras Victoria is my right hand. She has an account on _Neopets_ and a size 42 DD bra."

Seras looked a bit stunned and confused. "Sir Integra, shouldn't you tell them that I'm Alucard's fledgling and that I'm a former member of an elite police unit?"

Integra snorted in derision, "Seras, I'm your master, not your advertising agent."

Then Integra approached Zohall, who looked like a man that had watched entirely too much anime when he was a kid. "This is Zohall Mercer, my swordsman. He may dress like an idiot and act like an idiot but don't let that fool you; he really is an idiot."

Zohall was less than flattered by Integra's show of confidence in him. "Thanks for the glowing endorsement, _boss_."

Once more, Integra faced the Cullens. She stood in the exact spot as when she'd first arrived. "That concludes my visit here. Before I depart for glorious Great Britain, would anyone be willing to make me a sandwich?"

Bella suddenly had an idea. She raised her hand. "I'll make you a sandwich."

Integra was pleased but kept her cards close to her chest. "Excellent, but I will be watching you. Do not try to poison me, you will regret it."

As Integra followed Bella into the Cullen's kitchen, so the Cullen's began to disperse.

Integra heard Zohall shout in distress. "She's taking me somewhere?" Alice Cullen was carrying him bridal style to an undisclosed location, grinning like a manic pixy.

To her servant, Integra shouted, "Do I look like I care? Fight this vampire! Show her who is boss!"

As Alice started to take Zohall up the stairs, he screamed again. "You're not helping!"

Seeing that Zohall was acting the damsel in distress, Seras went to save him. He put her hand down on Alice's shoulder jus as the wee vamp was climbing the stairs. "Hey! You can't just abduct him like that."

Like a top, Alice spun around, hefting Zohall into a fireman's carry so she could get right into Seras' face. "I just had a vision about you and me." She was speaking at a mile a minute. "I saw that we're going to become best of buds. We'll laugh, dance, sing, giggle, tell girlish stories and fondle each other when the sun goes down!"

"What was the last one?"

"I said we'd go shopping together."

Seras would have never believed it possible for somebody to be this hyper. It was like watching a hummingbird take a whopping dose of epinephrine. Seras hadn't been as scared of a vampire since the priest in Cheddar village. Quickly she regained her composure. "So what are you going to do with him?"

Alice shrugged, "I'm just going to bathe him quickly. Maybe I'll patch up his clothes. He's got a really awful sense of fashion."

Seras nodded. "Alright, do with him but make it quick."

Alice squealed with excitement.

_Squeee!_

The sound gave Seras the willies. She'd had bad experiences with a girl like that in the orphanage.

Before Alice disappeared around a corner, Zohall shouted to her, "You too Seras!"

***

In the Cullen's kitchen, Bella watched Integra eat her sandwich. It was very impressive, an adjective that Bella never thought she would ever use to describe sandwich eating. Integra ate like it was the last meal of her life.

Peeping in and out of the corner was Edward. Bella had asked him to stay out of the kitchen. She figured that if he was too nearby, what she was going to ask Integra would never work.

Bella wrung her hands and bit her lower lip as Integra inhaled her sauerkraut sandwich. It was now or never. She asked hesitantly, "So, you hunt vampires?"

Integra gulped down the last of her sandwich. Wiping the organic mustard off of her face, she grunted, "What of it?"

From around the corner, Edward peeked. A quick glance from Bella instructed him to step away, despite his trepidation.

Bella explained. "I have a vampire problem."

Integra took it the wrong way. She waved behind her and asked, "You've a problem with this ruddy lot?"

Bella looked horrified. "No, no; I haven't got a problem with the Cullens. They've been nothing but kind to me."

Largely ignoring Bella, Integra began to rummage through the Cullens' pantry. "When what do you have to say to me?"

As Integra rummaged, Bella explained. "I was getting up this morning and I found evidence that a vampire was trying to kill me."

Still only half listening to Bella, Integra cursed. "Shit, no alcohol."

Bella continued to timidly plead her case. "And so you see," she barely dodged a pack of freeze dried walnuts as Integra continued her mad dash search, "I think that there's a vampire after me."

Integra continued to ignore Bella. "Shit, no coffee either."

Bella asked Integra. "Do you think you can help me?"

Integra spun around, causing her hair to fly every which way. The abruptness of her spin nearly caused Bella to fall on her backside with shock.

"Young lady," Integra snapped, "don't you dare presume to command me. You will never be as beautiful as I am."

Bella tried to say something except Integra thrust her arm out and flexed her bicep.

"Feel that," she commanded the teenager.

Reluctantly, Bella felt up Integra's bicep. The muscle tone was very good. In fact, if it wasn't for the butt length blond golden hair, Bella would have thought that she was feeling a man's arm. "It's . . . nice."

"I think that we can do more than "nice." Integra barked. She continued. "Young lady, if I do not get my regular caffeine ingestion then I shall go mad and kill the nearest living thing."

It wasn't lost on Bella that she was the nearest living thing to Integra.

"However, if you are able to direct me to the most expedient source of caffeine and alcohol, then I shall hear your case."

Bella smiled and clasped her hands together. "Thank you, thank you so much." She gestured towards the door with her thumb. "I'll be in the living room if you need me."

As she turned to leave, Bella accidently walked into a wall. Groaning in pain, Bella cupped her injured nose in her hands. Integra made no effort to ask after the girl's general health. Eyes brimming with tears of pain, Bella asserted her good health. "I'm okay, I'm fine."

At that moment, Edward came around the corner, looking as if he'd committed some great misdeed. Instantly he scooped Bella up and hauled her away at dizzying speed. No doubt he was going to beat himself up over his inability to keep Bella safe. Integra could care less.

No, all Integra cared about was when Alice would be finished with Zohall.

***

Zohall sat in the Cullen's bathtub. It was an enormous bathtub, easily capable of passing off as a small pool crossed with a high end Jacuzzi. Zohall was naked and screaming as Alice got him with the detachable showerhead. He thrashed and flayed but to no avail. Alice's small and cold hands held him in place.

"It's a madhouse! A MADHOUSE!!!"

Just as he'd screamed that, Alice shut off the water, leaving Zohall naked and wet. Alice looked down on him with almost parental benevolence. "Mr. Mercer, you're such an adorable boy. That's why I bought you a replacement outfit and am giving you a scrub. You smelled like cougar blood."

Zohall jabbed a finger at Alice. "If you threw out my cougar head, I'll kick your-"

Warm water blasted Zohall in the face, making him choke and sputter. This wasn't over.

Suddenly, Alice started to wash his hair with strawberry scented shampoo. "Oh the humanity!" Zohall lamented.

_Hellsing Headquarters_, _London_

Two men stood guard at the iron gates of Hellsing manor. In some respects these men were like the two who had stood guard many years ago during the assault of the Valentine brothers.

Since the Valentine's attack, many things had changed. The number of men guarding the mansion had been tripled since that tragic day. As well, the two gate guards were equipped with panic buttons which would signal command to arm landmines which covered all the roads leading to the mansion.

On top of that, the shrubbery hid remote controlled machine guns manned from deep within the mansion's command center.

Both these soldiers were mercenaries. One was a black Londoner named Kenyon while the other was a former Irish criminal named Ted. They didn't even flinch as a stolen car sped past them, kicking up dust and gravel.

_VROOOOM!_

"What's he doing?" asked Ted. The car sped past them again, this time in the opposite direction.

_VROOOOM!_

Kenyon replied nonchalantly. "It's how he masturbates sometimes."

_VROOOOM!_

Ted blinked. "What?"

Kenyon repeated himself. "Sometimes he masturbates while he drives; jerking it at a hundred miles an hour."

_VROOOOM! _Alucard sped past the two mercenaries like somebody was chasing him. Nobody was chasing them. He'd lost the police almost a half an hour ago.

Alucard sat in the driver's seat and he was less happy than usual. He was nearly two percent more psychotic than he usually was. And why shouldn't he be? His normally long, gorgeous man of black hair was gone. All that he had now was a shiny chrome dome and thanks to Integra's displeasure he couldn't even grow it back.

His right foot pressed the accelerator pedal right to the metal. His left hand held the steering wheel. His right hand was busy slamming his salami.

Alucard was a man with needs. He needed combat and destruction, but he also needed to get his rocks off in other ways. Hence, he'd found a car, stolen it and taped printed pornographic images to the dashboard. The police chase had slaked his appetite for destruction and caused thousands of pounds in property damage.

A tremor of pleasure buzzed through his body as his foot slammed on the brake and his hand spun the wheel as fast as he could.

Kenyon and Ted watched as Alucard spun his car around in a donut. Bored with this vampire free night, Ted asked Kenyon, "So what else does he do?"

Kenyon responded easily. "He likes his whores. He owns a bunch of them in the red light district."

"He's a pimp?"

_VROOOOM!_

"Trust me, the less you know about him the better you'll be."

Inside the car, the speed of the car went up with the level of Alucard's arousal. He yanked and beat on it like it'd insulted him. With lust glazed eyes, he stared deeply into the internet photo of the Serbian prostitute urinating on a man. That was it! He went over the edge!

As Alucard orgasmed, he crashed his car into a tree and it burst into flames.

Ted was shocked by the exploding car; he hadn't been here as long as Kenyon. For Kenyon this was old hat.

Alucard walked out the flames, seemingly fireproof. He was still pissed that his hair was gone but at least his sexual needs were taken care of. He began to walk towards the two mercenaries.

As he glided towards the guards, either man shut up. Before they knew it, Alucard was upon them, bald headed and almost translucent in the moonlight.

Before Ted knew it, Alucard's blood red eyes were fixed squarely upon him. Then he looked at Kenyon. "You, coconut, hit the road. Paddy and I have some business together."

Despite the racist barb, Kenyon didn't complain. Racism might hurt, but Alucard's anger hurts worse. Cheerfully he said to Ted, "Well, have fun." Then he was out there as fast as he could.

Ted was left alone with Alucard. His heart began to race.

In dulcet tones, Alucard explained to his potential victim. "I've need of your services. I want you to massage my scalp."

Ted was shocked by Alucard's request.

When he didn't reply immediately, Alucard raised his voice infinitesimally. "Can you not hear? I want you to massage my bald head." He then bent down to make his shiny scalp more accessible.

Ted slowly began to reach for Alucard's head even though he really didn't want to.

Alucard threatened him. "If you do not massage my scalp right now, I shall take you with me to my shed."

This sent cold chills up Ted's spine. Everyone at Hellsing knew about the shed except for Sir Integra and a handful of others. The shed was a ramshackle structure in the middle of the Hellsing grounds, shielded by thick trees and impenetrable thorn bushes. This was where Alucard went to slake his most perverted desires.

In that hideous wooden lean-to right out of Roald Dahl's nightmares, Alucard did strange things that would make the most amoral libertine bleach their eyes and swear celibacy. Nobody had taken to the shed since the time of Arthur Hellsing, but everybody rightly feared the place.

Since Ted had no desire to visit the dreaded shed, he relented and started to massage Alucard's head; first with one hand and then two.

Alucard closed his eyes, as if in deep contemplation. It would be a long time before he was satisfied with his head massage.

_Forks, Washington, The Diner_

Integra gulped back the scalding black coffee like it was nothing. It was her third cup of coffee and her mood had substantially improved. With a gesture of her hand, the waitress gave her a refill.

Bella Swan might have had atrocious balance but compensated for it with a sharp sense of direction. Unlike Zohall and Seras, she hadn't gotten lost when she'd taken her old, rusted truck and led Integra to the local liquor store and then the diner.

Edward didn't like leaving Bella alone with Integra, but with a little coaxing he'd relented. Bella was in love with a vampire who was on the verge of killing her at any given time; surely a vampire hunter would be harmless compared to all that.

Anyway, Bella wasn't alone with Integra; Zohall was with them. After his involuntary bath from Alice, he's accompanied Integra after the Cullens promised to take his cougar head to a taxidermist. Seras meanwhile was allowed to rest up in her coffin for a bit and start integrating with the Cullens.

Integra sat at the counter, Zohall was to her right and Bella to her left. As she put down her cup of coffee, she reached into her jacket and pulled out a travel bottle of whiskey, compliments of Bella Swan. As she took a pull on the whiskey, Bella finished explaining her story with the toe.

"And then I found a toe in my room. I think it was Victoria."

Integra merely chuckled and screwed the cap back onto the bottle. She was amused, "This has nothing to do with vampires." She sounded so certain of it.

Zohall looked at her as if she were completely insane. "Then what does this have to do with? Sir Integra, she hangs out with a family of vampires and is engaged to a vampire; what else is this thing going to be about?"

Integra shrugged, "The fuck should I know? All that I know is that it's ridiculous and silly to cry vampire every time some girl finds a toe in her bedroom. There is nothing that indicated vampire involvement."

Bella protested, "But some vampires are actually trying to kill me and they must have left the toe in there. When Edward killed James, Victoria must have taken it personally."

But Integra wasn't sold to the idea. She understood little of love, less of infatuation and certainly nothing of vampire love, affection and infatuation. She pulled out a cigar and started to chew on it. "That vampire you mentioned, Victoria, she's obviously an amateur. There is no way she could have been responsible for this; it must have been one of your classmates?"

Her classmates? Bella could hardly imagine Mike Newton and Lauren Mallory getting their hands on a mechanical pencil, let alone a human toe. Bella stared at Integra blankly, "What the heck are you talking about?"

Integra scoffed at Bella's naive attitude, "Please; as if were impossible for one of your classmates to take a toe, apply a bit of nail polish on it-

Zohall watched Integra. Honestly, he'd seen this kind of behaviour from her before and it kind of scared him. She was a great woman, but when her religious fundamentalist attitude or her anger kicked in, all the logic centers of her brain seemed to shut down.

Bella interrupted, "Where would someone get a toe?" Indeed, it wasn't like they sold them at Toes-R-Us.

Integra explained calmly, "You want a toe? I can get you a toe? There are ways; you don't want to know about them."

Bella just stared at Integra. What could she possibly say to a woman who knew how to get a toe? Integra Hellsing was truly from another universe.

Zohall tried to cut in, "Boss."

"I can get you a toe by three o'clock this afternoon; with nail polish."

At this point, Bella realized that she wasn't getting through to Integra. "She's going to kill me and if she can't she'll kill Edward. Or she might kill Charlie, my dad."

Integra gave Bella a look of pity. She patted the brunette girl on the shoulder. "That's . . . that's just the wedding nerves talking."

Bella sighed, this was hopeless. This woman wasn't hearing a word she'd said all night.

Integra was calm and her tone was measured. "So far, we have what appears to me to be a series of victimless crimes,"

Victimless crime; the owner of the toe would have something different to say about that. Needless to say, Bella was utterly shocked by Integra's overall thickneadedness. "What about the toe?" she whined.

Integra slammed down her fist on the counter, making the coffee cup jump. "FORGET ABOUT THE FUCKING TOE!!!"

Every head in the diner turned towards Bella and Integra's direction. Zohall just groaned and buried his face in his hands.

The waitress came by to warn Integra. "Excuse me miss, but this is a family restaurant."

"A family restaurant,' Integra sneered, "Madam, I have devoted every minute of my life to ensuring that people such as you and I can enjoy these types of family restaurant. There are men lying in the earth right now who have died to defend your rights."

Zohall sighed, there really was no reasoning with Integra when she got into this state, but he had to try. "Boss, just calm down."

"Zohall," Integra shouted, "Am I wrong when I say that there are provisions within the United States constitution allowing me the right to freedom of speech?"

Zohall shook his head. "Boss, this is not a first amendment issue." He turned off his stool and stood up. "Fuck this, I'm going to get the car; we need to get you to the airport."

As he walked away, Integra raged. "Mr. Mercer, I order you to get back here. Do not turn your back on me! This affects us all!"

People were starting to whisper to each other about the butch, angry lady. They were also talking about the blonde swordsman and the local high school girl.

Bella realized that people were staring at her. "I should probably get out of here."

She didn't get far because Integra grabbed her shirt and dragged her back into her seat. "_You_ are staying here! We're going to sit here together until I finish my coffee."

Bella's cheeks turned beet red as Integra began to leisurely sip her coffee. She was painfully aware that everybody was looking at her and talking things which couldn't be very nice.

People sniggered as Integra continued, oblivious to everything.

"I'm staying here," _sip_, "I'm enjoying my coffee."

_Sip_

"Enjoying my coffee."

* * *

And While Integra enjoys her coffee; I hope that you guys enjoyed this chapter. This gave me the chance to channel some more of the Big Lebowski.

While we're here, I'd like to sponsor an author who hasn't been on this site very long but has none the less proved his salt. Check out the stories of Jack the Reaper; he'll make you laugh, cry and jump to the edge of your seat. Give him a try, and if you don't like him, you'll have to answer to me.

TA :)

Master of the Boot


	31. The Pixy and the Ferenczy

The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair

Chapter Thirty-One: The Pixy and the Ferenczy

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for Simon Ferenczy. Zohall is owned by EZB.

_Eastern Canada, Montreal_

Dok and Schrodinger had lived in Canada for almost ten years, but they'd never seen much of the country. They'd been too busy living hand in mouth, trying to escape the wrath of the Volturi. Dok had taken a menial job and stolen medical supplies from a small town hospital in order to keep synthesizing the serum he needed in order to remain human. It had been a hard life, but somehow he, Schrödinger and The Captain managed to form a semblance of a happy Nazi family.

Financially, things had been tight before Joham appeared in their lives. The Canadian government was a bitch when it came to taxes. Dok would have had Captain kill the tax man except that wouldn't have been not very good for staying hidden. When things got bad during the recent global recession, Dok had been forced to pimp out Schrodinger to various men and women in order to make ends meet. Schrodinger had no complaints.

Thus after getting used to having very little money, it was somewhat of a shock to realize just how much disposable income Joham had. The man had spent nine centuries studying every scientific field and in the process had profited greatly from pain and death galore.

The man threw so much money away every year that he made the Cullens look like misers. Still, the money he spent on luxuries was nothing compared to the sum total of his vast ill gotten fortune which he now shared with Dok.

The current plan was to meet with an old contact of Millennium, one Simon Ferenczy. Ferenczy was important to Dok and Joham's plans because in addition to being a master thief, he was connected with many of the worst elements in the British criminal underworld and her Majesty's government. It was surprising how often a member of parliament needed some dirty secrets dug up about his political opponents. Simon was just the man to do that.

Joham had expressed scepticism about employing Simon for this job. He had contacts of his own in the British government and besides, he did not trust the Wamphyri. They were the low life scavengers of the vampire world, ready to devour anyone and anything unlucky enough to fall for their traps.

At the present time, Joham didn't seem too worried about Simon Ferenczy. At the present moment, Dok, Joham and Schrodinger were sitting pretty in a private room in an upscale strip club in downtown Montreal. Joham had even brought two of his daughters along to act as body guards and to have them watch their daddy in action.

Joham laughed and spanked the stripper on her booth tanned bottom. The stripper squealed with delight as the man who looked like he was sixty spanked her ass with his cold hand. She found his cold body to be thrilling. She believed that she could warm him up, because unlike Erin, she actually favoured the older gentlemen.

As the stripper continued with her lap dance, Dok merely sat in his comfortable chair and gave himself another injection of serum. As a homosexual man in a building full of semi-naked woman whose job it was to titillate him, he felt a bit . . . not intimidated, just useless. It really made him question Joham's decision to meet here.

One of the strippers stepped in front of Dok; she was a Francophone, just like the majority of the girls here. In a Quebec patois, the girl asked Dok. "_Pardon Misseur,_ me and some of ze girls were wondering if you were a homo-sexsual?"

Dok replied, "Yes, I am."

The Francophone stripper nodded, causing her large, fake boobs to tremble slightly. "_Oui._ Can I still have five dollars?"

Dok shrugged and dug into his long white lab coat. The owner might get angry if Dok didn't spend at least a little money on women. But judging by how Joham was enjoying enough strippers for the both of them, that didn't look like a likely possibility.

Joham had taken on a second stripper because one wasn't enough for the horny old bastard. And as he handled the whores with wanton glee, his daughters continued to watch on. Sexually, Joham expected his daughters to be totally like the strippers, subservient totally to a man's whim.

The stripper happily skipped away with her five Canadian dollars. She was going to buy some condoms tonight!

To Dok's left, Schrodinger materialized. His velvety ears twitched and his eyes flashed the dim lighting of the strip club, just like a real cat. "Dok, he hast just arrived."

Dok nodded, "_Sehr gut_, make sure he gets the right _Zimmer_."

Schrodinger pulled off a snappy salute, "_Jawol!_"

At that moment, Joham called to Dok from in-between his stripper sandwich. "Your English is horrible, _mijn vriend_."

Dok bristled at the remark. How dare that Dutch bastard call him out on his English. He spoke the damn language just fine.

It was then that Simon Ferenczy walked into the room. A few strippers strutted towards him and then stopped in their tracks. Simon Ferenczy wasn't the type of vampire that you wanted to meet in a dark alley, in a well lit room, in a bar, in a library . . . pretty much anywhere.

Superficially he was quite handsome with his shiny red hair and strong shoulders. A closer examination would reveal that Simon's beauty was literally skin deep. As with all wamphyri his nose was an inverted bat's snout instead of a proper human nose. His skin was grey and was pockmarked and peppered with very large pores. Dark sunglasses covered his bright crimson eyes and a bowler hat covered up the tips of his hairy bat like ears.

Joham caused humans to be intimidated for reasons that they didn't fully understand. The reasons for Simon intimidating people were very tangible. From his sharp flesh ripping teeth to the way he looked at women like he was going to eat them, he was a prime example of stylishly dressed bad news.

He was really stylishly dressed. It was suit and jacket made out of dark fabric with a lighter coloured silk tie. It was a look that never went out of style. The bowler hat was custom made to fit a skull that was elongated to accommodate massively powerful bit muscles. Height and build wise he stood halfway between the spindly Dok and the barrel chested Joham.

Without being invited, Simon took the seat that was across from Dok and right next to Joham.

In his seat, Joham recoiled and shoved the stripper off of him, causing her to rudely hit the unforgiving tile floor. The stripper cursed a blue streak at Joham but he could give a rat's ass what that stingy scum. Fixed on his face was a look of disgust.

Simon introduced himself to the party. "Doctor, it's good to set my sights on you again. It's really been too long."

Dok nodded. "Ja Simon, it hast been far too long."

Simon smiled but neglected to remove his hat and glasses. There was no need to frighten the staff here anymore than he already was.

Joham's daughters had gathered behind him and they perfectly mirrored their father's disdain.

A waitress began to approach with a load of assorted drinks and a platter of barbecue honey chicken wings that was so heavy the waitress was going to have back problems tomorrow. The sight of this made Simon light up like a child being presented his birthday cake. "Oh Dok, you always knew how to keep a man like me in alkie."

For the Wamphyri, the blood is the life however this bizarre species of vampire possessed much more than the hunger for blood.

Simon grabbed the first drink, a glass of one star wine and threw it back like water. Then he gulped down a brightly coloured vodka drink, a decanter of brandy, a shooter of tequila and a whole glass of grain alcohol. Each beverage was taken in rapid succession without even a breath between them. With this prodigious amount of hooch consumed, Simon's face just barely twitched.

It was then that Joham began to comment on their visitor. "So you are one of the _vamphyri_. Your kind are the maggots of the vampire world."

Simon sniggered a little at Joham's sanctimonious tone. "Don't get your Alan Whickers in a twist, Mr. Sparkles." He found it quite rich that he'd get shit from one of the guys who sparkle. Worry about your own shortcomings, guys.

Joham stiffened infestiminally in his chair and turned to his daughters. Simon's grasp of the Dutch language was limited but he got the gist that Joham was demanding his youngest daughter find out who was Alan Whickers and to keep tabs on him.

Dok also couldn't help but chortle a little. Simon liked to keep his slang up to date and wasn't afraid to use it to confuse non-British speakers.

While this occurred, Simon lifted a chicken wing to his sensitive nostrils. They flared out like some wild beast as he took in the scent.

Dok reassured his associate. "Don't vorry, it's _nicht_ garlic flavoured."

His squashed nose confirming Dok's testimony. The first wing went down the hatch. Then, Simon grabbed a whole handful of wings and shovelled them into his main masticator. Wamphyri teeth are unlike the teeth of typical vampires. Instead of delicate bloodletting tools, their teeth resemble instruments for ripping, crushing and slashing. The chicken wings posed no problem for Simon and he devoured bones, cartilage and flesh with equal eagerness.

To Joham, the wamphyri's gluttonous eating habits were further proof of their base nature. No vampire should partake of mortal food. Blood was the nectar of the gods and the key to immortality. Involuntarily, he took a sniff because it was getting uncomfortable without his sense of smell.

His eyes grew wide behind his glasses as he recognized one of the ingredients of the sauce. "Fructose!"

Simon raised an eyebrow at the Unstet's outburst.

Joham shot up from his seat with superhuman speed and started to wave his cane about. "Run! There is fructose in the food! It is known to contain mercury! You are all being fed mercury; barbecue flavoured death mercury!"

Now Simon was really sniggering. "I think your elderly friend is in bits." That one was a British colloquialism for insanity. Perhaps insanity was what Joham was experiencing. He considered the Holocaust a triumphant moment of human achievement but he was morally horrified by the idea of mercury ridden sugars inside food. Maybe like Joham, the most evil men in the world just have their priorities all wrong.

Dok stood up a bit slower than Joham had. "Herr Devenpeck, if you do not calm down we vill be thrown out of this establishment." That they weren't already thrown out on their asses was testament to their position in the VIP lounge.

Reluctantly, Joham got back down in his seat. Obediently, one of his offspring took his cane. Another one of his siren like daughters grabbed a stripper off a pole and deposited her in her father's granite lap. The stripper was about to protest her hard landing when Joham growled, "Dance!" She dared not do otherwise.

Simon swallowed another handful of wings and then gulped it down. Time was a wasting. "So, what am I being brought here for?"

Joham narrowed his eyes and glanced over at Dok. It was the German's idea to invite this creature, but Joham wasn't totally sold to the concept of Simon's trustworthiness.

Dok met Joham's gaze and did not flinch. Acknowledging Dok's surety, Joham gestured to another of his children. Like a vision of beauty, she lunged in and snatched the stripper away from her daddy.

Dok, Joham and Simon all leaned in. Dok opened up business. "The Last Battalion ist going to continue with its original plan to lay siege to London."

Simon nodded at Dok. "Again I ask of you, what is it you want me to do?"

Joham answered the grotesque vampire's quarry. "Our first plan was shot down prematurely by the Volturi" already Joham was counting himself as a member of the Nazi Party, "Hellsing is already familiar with us and who we are." He flattened a nonexistent crease in his white pants. "If we are to attack London and by extension Hellsing, we will need a new advantage. In the original attack we were able to lure Alucard aboard a damaged aircraft carrier."

Simon had to caution his co-conspirators. "Just so you lads are aware, I am no match for the big red brute."

Joham muttered a scorning phrase in his native language.

Dok handled himself with a bit more maturity. "Ve are not expecting you to do anything of that nature. Ve need some biological weapons."

Simon's eyes widened behind his shades. "Now that is something I could do."

Joham was about to add a witty remark when Simon packed the last of the chicken into his mouth like a satanic squirrel. He leaned back in his chair and raised a white eyebrow with disgust. "You are utterly grotesque."

Simon grinned; his teeth were full of chicken scraps and barbecue sauce. It was macabre in a kind of immature schoolboy kind of way. It made Joham want to puke. Luckily he wasn't able to puke. Puking would have not been good for his clothes.

Simon looked up at Hanneke whose body radiated warmth like a furnace; how unlike her parent. Her stomach was turned uneasily by Simon but she kept it all hidden under a polite smile. When Simon flicked out his forked tongue over his lips that smile flickered. Simon loved it when women feared him; it made their rapes all the sweeter.

The London born wamphyri would love to rape every one of the lovely vamirovics but that was one goal which would have to wait for another time. And being a vampire, time was something he had in abundance.

Joham caught the look in Simon's eyes when he gazed upon his eldest child and he became strangely protective. Even though he'd bred Hanneke to far more hideous men than Simon, he began to growl from deep in his chest, shaking the empty liquor glasses.

Joham's display of protectiveness was not lost on any party present except for Schrodinger. The cat boy popped up next to Joham and held up a slimy object. "Look Herr Joham, one of the strippers gave me a balloon." Actually it was a condom but Dok had never taught him about those things. Judging by the drip on it the thing was a used condom.

As Schrodinger dangled the second hand love glove in front of Joham's face, the vampire scientist just lost it. With Chuck Norris like speed, Joham smashed Schrodinger in the nose with the back of his fist.

Schrodinger's head shot back and then shot forward as if it were on a spring. Then he fell to the floor dead with a piece of bone lodged in his brain. Slumped on the ground, Schrodinger's eyes rolled back in his skull.

In the lounge, the girls kept on gyrating and dancing, totally oblivious to how a seemingly sixty year old man had murdered a ten or twelve year old boy.

Simon Ferenczy was more than aware of the cooling body on the ground. "Dok, can I eat the boy?"

Dok didn't have to reply because Schrodinger came to life just like the theoretical cat he was named after. "_Wo ist mein balloon_?"

Joham just winced. Sure Schrodinger was the key to killing Alucard but couldn't he just stay dead or be less annoying.

Simon called to his potential employers. "Fellas, have a listen; give me your ears."

Schrodinger took this request a bit too literally, grabbing his fluffy ear and reaching for his Hitler youth dagger. He got a look at Dok who mouthed, "_Nein._" Reluctantly Schrodinger put down the knife; he was looking forward to hacking off body parts.

Simon went on; his voice now sounded a little bit less than human. "Dok, you and your Nazis have paid me well over the years and I have lived well, but I want a bit more than to live well if you get my meaning." He clenched and relaxed his hands, his fingernails had turned into throat cutting claws.

"I've been around a long time and I've done the smart thing and that isn't always the fun thing. I'm not like your friend in the white get up here. I want some _fun_ in my life, a bit of _sport_. If you're going to hire me, I want a part of the sacking of good old London town. I want to be there with your boys when everything burns to ash and the streets are full of bloated, stinking carrion. I want to have some fun." These were his desires, strengthened and magnified by the putrid parasite wrapped around his heart and spine.

"Can you do that for me?" It was an easy question.

Dok had an easy answer for the Brit wamph'. "Ja, ve can accommodate you, Herr Ferenczy."

Simon answered with a single hungry, hateful world. "_Good_."

_Forks, Washington_

Esme was the mother of the Cullen family. Her problem was that her children were mostly in a state of perpetual adolescence. She didn't really get a chance to mother them as she truly wanted. This reason was why so many motherly vampires turned small children, thus leading to the outlawing of immortal children. It was better for everybody.

Having Bella in the house proved to be a real treat for Esme because it was forcing her to learn how to cook. Being unable to taste her creations, it was at first tricky for Esme but eventually she got the hang of it.

However cooking for Bella did in no way prepare Esme to cook for Zohall Mercer. In terms of appetite or metabolism there was no comparison. Bella was an eighteen year old girl who occasionally did sit-ups to keep fit and tried to watch what she ate. Zohall was a twenty three year old man with the physical fitness of a Navy Seal and a proclativity to running ten miles in the morning and night in bare feet.

Zohall hungrily ripped into a chicken drumstick, savouring the taste of Esme's delicious thyme seasoning. With his other hand he shovelled in a load of peas cooked in tomato sauce. Already he'd eaten twice of what Bella was able to and was showing no signs of slowing down. After sucking up a glass of orange juice like he was dying of thirst, he turned to the Cullen Matriarch. "Great food, Mrs. C."

Esme smiled at the green eyed soldier of Hellsing. "Thank you Zohall, but when you run can't you wear some shoes. We have any number of shoes that you can borrow." Her tone was so heartfelt and sincere that Zohall almost believed that Esme wasn't insane.

For the last half hour she'd hovered over him like a mothering vulture. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate her hospitality; it was just that she was like an oppressive blanket and he needed some fucking breathing room. Didn't she have any hobbies? Didn't she have somewhere to be?

Keeping his feelings hidden, Zohall answered the question about his feet. "Sorry Mrs. C, but I need to run without the shoes."

Esme's face visibly fell. It hurt her heart to look at Zohall's calloused feet. He'd made a habit of going barefoot within the Cullen home. His feet were still dirty from earlier run and the soles were so tough that he might be able to hammer nails in with them. Martial arts training with Leon had toughened his toes as well. He could play soccer with a rock!

Zohall went on. "Leon and me run like this so we can toughen our feet. If I'm in a _Die Hard_ type situation where the terrorist's feet are too small, I can just walk right over the broken glass like Jesus on water."

Another thing that shocked Esme about Zohall was his casual blasphemy. No child of hers would ever blaspheme . . . when she was there to hear. For now thought she just tried to be a good hostess.

"Is there anything else I can get you, dear?"

"Yeah there is; can you fuck off and give me some space?"

A pregnant silence followed. Esme froze like an insect in amber. Young Mr. Mercer chewed his food and glanced up at the lady of the house.

Zohall continue to eat but his pace slowed. His many years spent in the company of mercenaries, soldiers, murderers, hit men and psychopaths had made Zohall a casual swearer. He'd really fucked up this time.

While Zohall just insulted Esme, Seras was being shown around the family home. It was night-time now and she was feeling rejuvenated by her time in the coffin. "Thank you for letting us stay here, Dr. Cullen."

Carlisle just smiled warmly. "Not at all Seras; it's a pleasure for us to have guests."

Currently they were making their way through the library. The books on the wall reflected the diversity of interests of the Cullen family. There were books on virtually every topic imaginable here. Seras suddenly felt very self conscious of herself because the last thing she'd ever read was a weapons manual for the Harkonnen Cannon. The last real book she had read was her old math textbook from high school.

The Cullen father waved to the books. "All of these are your to read, Seras. I just ask that you don't touch Emmett's _Animorph _books. They are all that he ever reads besides the sports highlights on television and he's very touchy about them."

Seras had no idea what the hell an Animorph was but it seemed a reasonable enough request. "Thank you, doctor."

Hanging out with Dr. Cullen was a unique experience. Physically he was forever frozen in a body that was no older than Zohall was, but his demeanour carried the mark of a much older and wiser man and it was what allowed him to get away with people not questioning his age for so long.

One of the great things about Dr. Cullen was that he didn't stare at her chest like most people did. That earned him a lot of respect right there.

"So Doctor, you're from England."

Carlisle nodded, "Indeed Seras, I am a Briton through and through, no matter what my fake birth certificate says."

The two of them began to walk into Carlisle's study. He went on about his past. "I was the only son of a middle class Anglican priest. England was much different back then."

Seras looked at him wide eyed. "Please Doctor, you must tell me all about it."

Carlisle's smile dropped a bit. "When I was growing up, society was very bloody. Public executions and blood sport were popular forms of entertainment."

"How awful."

The golden eyed man nodded. "Indeed it was. I vaguely recall an incident where my father took me to witness a decapitation as a child. When I wept for the condemned, my father became so embarrassed that he took me home and beat me.

"As he beat me, he yelled at me that none of the other children had cried."

Seras attempted to add a little levity to the situation. "Looks like I'm not the only who had a rough childhood."

Carlisle shook his head. "It wasn't all that bad. I never suffered from any broken bones and the old man only beat me when he became frustrated or upset." His tone became progressively bitterer as he went on.

"Forgive me for saying this Doctor, but I think your father was a right tosser."

He laughed at her assessment. "That he was, but when you get down to it I really can't hate the old man for long. Some people just aren't ever really fit to have children."

The childe of Alucard glanced around the study. Her eyes fell upon a large wooden cross which to her eyes looked extremely old. The cross was such a beautiful old antique that she stared at it for too long. The effect was similar to staring into the sun. Immediately she began to be overcome with a sense of vertigo and her vision was fading rapidly.

She was about to trip and fall when two hard cold hands grabbed onto her arms. Seras was immediately grateful for this motion. The exact thing had once happened to her when Pip was in the room. The key difference was that Carlisle grabbed her arms. Pip grabbed her titties.

Carlisle got a thank you. Pip got bitch slapped.

"Thank you, Dr. Cullen."

His golden eyes darted to the cross on the wall. "I see that my father's cross gave you trouble."

Her eyes widened. "That belonged to your father? I'm very sorry."

Carlisle ran a hand down the smooth wood. "You've nothing to apologize for Seras. I might as well blame an asthmatic for not being able to breathe."

For some time he gazed fondly at the cross. It was older than he was and for all his father's faults he never stopped being grateful for the gift of this religiously fashioned piece of wood. "I do not take many souvenirs, but when I take them they have very special significance."

Seras gazed around the room. It was a tastefully decorated and features a few items of great age. Being a former Bobby, Seras's eyes gravitated towards an antique handgun. It was an old affair made from iron and wood. At the time of its manufacture it hadn't been a very expensive gun but as an antique it might fetch some value.

She pointed to the small and easily concealable revolver on the wall. "What's the story behind that?" Seras decided to be clever with the doctor since he was such an easy person to get familiar with. "No, let me guess. That's a gift from a thief of bandit that you healed."

This earned her a chuckle from the Cullen father. "Never stop the enthusiasm," he congratulated her. "But no, I'm afraid that your guess is incorrect. I used this gun when I was a prostitute."

Seras froze like a deer in headlights. Slowly, she turned her head to look at Dr. Cullen. "Er, sorry?"

He laughed at her shock. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Seras. I used to work as a prostitute in London from eighteen eighty to eighteen ninety."

It wasn't exactly clicking in Seras mind. So far Dr. Cullen had been nothing except old fashioned fatherhood with all the honour and kindness to go with it. She just couldn't imagine him going down a filthy London back alley in fishnet stockings and red dress while charging strangers two pounds for a blowjob and twenty pounds for a full night of boom-shaka-laka.

Carlisle was not blind to Seras discomfort. Frankly, he was kind of expecting a reaction like this. Then again, his time as a low level whore in the East End was not something that he told many people. His son Emmett still didn't know. Tanya in Denali was jealous of the sexual skills he'd picked up during that period.

"I understand if you are confused."

Sears stared at Carlisle warily. He just looked like a fifties sitcom father in his cardigan sweater and corduroy slacks. How could this man have been a prostitute? He shouldn't have even been able to spell the word.

"When I was a vampire living in England, I'd been an active doctor for just forty years; it had taken me long enough to master the bloodlust. One night I was treating a business man whose home had been burned partially by militant feminists."

Carlisle gingerly took the gun from where it hung on the wall and started to hold it lovingly. "You see, back then, not all suffragettes were well behaved ladies discussing policy. Naturally outraged by what I thought was unwomanly behaviour, I went to confront some of these arsonists."

"Upon entering their headquarters I encountered a former prostitute who gave me quite the tongue lashing" he noticed Seras expression grow more freaked out, "but not sexually."

"Anyway, the young lady despite being nearly one and two thirds centuries my junior shot many holes into my set notions about women and how they behaved. Eventually our argument generated into a yelling match where she goaded me by saying that I wouldn't last five minutes in a woman's lot."

He put the gun back in its spot on the wall. He would have to have it restored soon. The years were taking their toll. "Impulsively, I treated patients in London by day and became a prostitute by night."

He recalled fondly back to his time as a street walker, wincing slightly at the bad moments. "My ten years moonlighting as a whore really opened my mind about many things and challenged me in many ways. I learned much about both women and men. Luckily a good number of my clients were female and most of those that were not were somewhat respectful."

Seras schooled her features into something resembling normalcy, but she was still majorly freaked out.

He explained for her. "I was only twenty three years old when I turned; biologically I was barely even a child. In some ways today I am still a child and personal growth can be hard to cultivate. However I do try."

With is pep speech done, Seras heard Zohall's shout from downstairs. She was relieved to have an excuse to leave the room.

Zohall called for everyone's attention and everyone appeared in the room before him. He'd eaten his meal and gotten cleaned up. Much to his great emotional anguish Alice had thrown out an old and much loved _Trigun_ t-shirt.

_Five minutes ago_

_"Where's my shirt?" Zohall demanded. In place of his beloved, worn out Trigun shirt was some lovely brand name thing. _

_Alice and her husband Jasper zipped into the room. Alice had seen this in one of her visions of the future but it was worth it because the shirt she bought would make Zohall seem more beautiful. "I threw out that old ratty thing and replaced it with a new one, aren't you happy."_

_Zohall was not at all happy about that. "You fucking bitch!" Jasper growled at him but Zohall wasn't in the least bit afraid. _

_Alice tries to explain it to the young man. "Don't you see Zohall, that shirt was old and mouldy. I saw in a vision how it would give you a skin rash from lack of washing."_

_Suddenly, the room was flooded by waves of calm by Jasper. Zohall immediately stopped feeling angry. It was like he just ate a whole bottle of valilum. "You know what Alice; thanks for the shirt. By the way, did you see the hidden message?"_

_Alice looked confused for a moment. "What hidden message?" This hadn't appeared in her vision. _

_Zohall clarified what shirt he meant. "There's a hidden message here, Alice. It's 'FUCK YOU!" He jabbed an accusing finger at her. _

_Now_

Luckily Alice had been nice to help him find that shirt again. She was even willing to sift through the Cullens garbage to find that ratty old shirt with Vash the Stampede on it. Still, Zohall fucking hated Alice Cullen and either now or in the future he was going to get his revenge on her. This was at odds with what Jasper wanted but Zohall was looking forward to the challenge.

While waiting for everybody to show up, Zohall entertained Edward and his girlfriend with old war stories. Bella was utterly stunned by what Zohall had experience in his life. An orphan who lived in Racoon city, he'd witnessed all the children he grew up with get eaten by the teeming zombie hordes. On top of that he'd been forced to shoot his best friend on the head when he got infected. Also on top of he'd run into a sex offender who decided that since he was going to die, he might as well deflower the blond youth.

"That's when Leon showed up and saved my ass. Literally."

Bella was speechless. "Wow, I don't know how you survived it all. When Edward left me I just turned into a mindless zombie, but you actually fought mindless zombies."

Zohall was humble about it. "Mostly I just pretended that I don't have any problems." Right on schedule, he took a long pull of a sports energy drink. Finishing off the last of the drink, he crushed the can in his hand.

Edward was slightly jealous of Zohall. It wasn't every day that people fascinated Bella such as this man. Normally he was the one that dazzled and fascinated her. The part of him that was a hundred year old vampire rationalized that Zohall had no designs on Bella. The part of him that was frozen as a seventeen year old didn't care and was still jealous. Only Jasper noticed Edward's feelings.

Edward picked up on Jasper's thoughts. "_Simmer the fuck down. Your damn jealousy is making me sick_." Embarrassed by this, Edward tried to turn down the dial on his emotions.

Zohall elaborated for Bella as he cracked open another sports drink. "For a while after Leon saved me, I was so pissed off that I tried to join Al-Qaeda. Apparently they have an anti-B.O.W. branch funded by the Saudis."

Bella was shocked and blinked her large brown orbs. "You tried to join the terrorists? That seems pretty extreme."

Young Mercer took a pull off the can of high caffeine drink. "Yeah, but this was before 9/11." He cursed bitterly. "Those bastards wouldn't take me anyway. Sons of bitches." As if being rejected by an organization of fanatical psychopaths was a bad thing.

But Bella's admiration of this man was undiminished. "You're a very brave man, Zohan."

"It's Zohall."

"Sorry," she blushed.

Seras bounced in the room, chest bouncing with her. "Zohall, everyone has arrived."

Setting down his highly unhealthy drink, Zohall jumped into the spotlight; his natural element. All the Cullens were there as well as Edward's girlfriend. Emmett busily tapped on a handheld video game, breaking it in his quest to defeat the enemy Pokémon. Emmett moaned with disappointment as the game boy fell in half.

Rose sat next to Emmett as if she had a university degree in arrogance. Strangely enough, Zohall couldn't blame her for looking this way. She was only eighteen when she was turned and it was done right after something very graphic. Still, if she fucked with him then she'd better watch out.

Alice said to Zohall, "I put your shirt in the washing machine." He still fucking hated her.

Carlisle sat with Esme and for some reason Seras was avoiding looking at Carlisle.

Edward was being the perfect little gentleman and trying very hard not to stare at Bella's jugs. He tried so very hard.

It was time to start the party. "Okay everybody, we've got a wedding in a week and a half and according to your little pixy thingy, we have an imminent vampire invasion."

Seras chose this time to chime in, getting up off the sofa and next to her partner. "That's right and it's our intent to form a cohesive battle plan in order to gain the upper hand over our enemies."

Zohall nodded, "Right Seras. Now the way I see it, we're the People's Army of Forks, Washington. Anybody who's anybody can sign on with us and fight." He elaborated for the slightly confused Cullens. "Allies people; call up all your friends. Get anybody who can help us against an enemy with unknown numbers and abilities. Getting me?"

Jasper spoke up in his easy yet tense tone. "I've attempted to contact Peter and Charlotte but so far I've had no luck with them."

Seras focused on the tiniest Cullen. "Alice, you can see the future. Can't you tell us anything?"

The normally chipper Alice suddenly becomes frustrated. "I'm sorry, but I just can't. The leader of this army is changing her mind every five seconds to keep me off guard. It's throwing me off." She paused, "Wait, I'm getting something." Alice momentarily spaced out. Then they started to get something. "Alright, I'm seeing Carlisle surrounded by . . . Oh my God, he's dead!"

Everyone gazed in alarm at the Cullen Patriarch.

Then the Alice forecast changed. "Wait, he's not dead." Everyone sighed in relief but the relief was short lived. "One of them is sneaking up on Seras—OH my God!" Her shout of horror made everybody jump.

"No wait—she survives."

Seras rolled her eyes. She was starting to notice a pattern here.

Alice did it again. "Hold on—OH GOD! AHHHHH! They're all dead!" She threw up her hands and started to wail like a wounded animal whose mate had been killed. Abruptly she tranced out.

Everybody waited with bated breath but they sort of could guess what was going to happen.

"Wait—that doesn't happen. Sorry everybody, but I'm no good to you."

Jasper wanted to groan with the rest of them but was stopped by his power. Like Edward, he had a unique window into people's psychology. The waves of guilt coming off of Alice were terrible. While she tried to act like the main character from _Legally Blonde, _on the inside she was the sad girl who has to explain to her parents why she failed to pass her diploma exam. At a time when her family needed it most, Alice's visions weren't pulling through and the guilt was killing her.

Zohall was disappointed by Alice's lack of helpfulness but it wasn't in his nature to despair. "Okay then. I say we fucking do this the old fashioned way. We fucking wing it and hope for the best."

Jasper was outraged by Zohall's cavalier attitude towards the battle. "That's not how war is conducted. Lives are at stake and you need to proceed carefully and plan for every contingency."

Zohall shrugged off Jasper's attitude. "Careful planning is all good, man, but right now we have shit all in terms of military intelligence. If we slow down and stare at the other guys like civilized people then they'll fuck us up. We've got to get our guns ready because we're basically in the dark."

"And running around like fools will get us all killed."

Zohall took Jasper's challenge. "And sitting with our thumbs our asses will get us twice as killed. We move now."

Jasper glowered but otherwise held his tongue. Under the circumstance there was really nothing they could do but "wing it." However, he would be there to stop Zohall if his bravery turned into recklessness, for the young lad was reckless in a way that jasper had never been.

Jasper was a military man at heart. Zohall was a paramilitary man, a guerrilla and a bandit. They approached the problem in two very different ways. For Jasper it was all about pitched battles and strategic objectives. Zohall saw the world in terms of how badly he could cause pain to numerically and strategically superior foes.

Together, the two men might make a formidable force.

Seras spoke up now. "Zohall is right. We have little to work with and a blooming lot to do. Among other things, we need to contact the werewolves."

Edward hissed, for he saw in Seras mind the plan she had. "No, I refuse to let you allow those mutts into this matter!" Protectively he grabbed Bella. He meant to grab her shoulders but instead latched onto her breasts.

Bella always loved it when Edward massaged her breasts. In his outdated notions of purity and other bullshit, he refused to have sex with her or make out heavily. Luckily he was still a horny teenage boy and had a substitute in the form of boob massages. It was just that Bella didn't want him to do it in front of everybody. "Edward, you're grabbing me inappropriately."

Embarrassed, Edward let go of her budding milk makers.

Seras just stared at Edward as she might a youth guilty of littering. "Listen to me, lad" she was using her full cop voice now, "Now is not the time to get prejudiced. You blokes have a treaty with the wolves. That means we can build a serious fighting alliance, because form what I understand they hate vampires."

Jasper agreed with Seras but his natural Unstet instincts still made him very prejudiced against the wolves. All the Cullens shared this prejudice to one degree or another but they all saw the need for allies.

One by one, they all nodded.

Zohall smiled at them. "Alright, since I've made good headway with the locals, I think I should be the one to go and recruit them. Plus I don't stink to them."

Carlisle agreed but had this to add. "You did save one of the Quileute children, but I should be there as well since I was the one who originally drafted the treaty all those years ago."

Zohall agreed. "Right, me, Seras and Doctor Whitey will head out later and get the Quil-thingies on our side."

Thus the start of the battle plan had begun. Zohall pointed to Emmett. "You, big boy, you and me are going to go shopping later for fertilizer, gasoline, bottles, magnesium and some stuff that's illegal."

Emmet's face lit up. "Alright!" he said. He really didn't know what Zohall was going to do with all that stuff but he bet it would be fun.

* * *

Well everybody I hope that you enjoyed this. Next time we meet up with the Quileutes and Rip Van Winkle in her place of torment. Don't forgett that I am open to requests, we just need to talk it out first.

So have a splendid day and God bless :D

Ta

Master of the Boot


	32. Werewolves and Cheese

The Big Hellsing: Chapter Thirty-Two

Werewolves and Cheese

Disclaimer: I no more own Hellsing or Twilight than I do the knowledge for ancient Chinese sword making. All of these amazing things are owned by other people like Stephanie Meyer and Kouta Hirano.

Author's note: A good friend of mine named Haissan has come up with a new story called _Hellsing NOES_. It's about Hellsing's struggle against the demon known as Freddy Krueger.

* * *

Leah Clearwater was a person who'd had a hard time in life. Like many people who'd had a hard time in life, she liked to believe that nobody in the world had ever suffered as much as her because like many teenage girls she believed that her suffering was famous in its level.

True, very few people turned into a werewolf at the age of eighteen and caused their father to die of a heart attack, but it wasn't all that bad.

The problem was that with becoming a werewolf she was now part of a sophisticated hive mind that existed solely to kill vampires, from the lowliest wamphyri to the mightiest Nosferatu lord and everything in-between.

Also what hurt was that her old boyfriend Sam had imprinted on her cousin and now the two were fucking and holding hands in public. That almost hurt more than knowing she had caused her father's death, because her priorities were really fucked up.

To take the mind off the pain of her life, Leah took to tormenting her fellow pack mates. She loved to taunt Paul about the dubious identity of his father, tease Sam about his effectiveness as a leader and his bad performance in bed, and she especially loved to torment her brother Seth.

These barbs, both verbal and psychic were especially ruthless. Some of them were so bad that they might as well come from Alucard or the mouth of Joseph Mengelee.

At this moment, she was sitting with her brother at Taco Bell. The two of them were eating tacos. Actually, Seth had eaten his tacos long ago; Leah was still going into them.

Just like vampires had weaknesses, so did Leah. It turned out that her weakness was Taco Bell. The slightest whiff of Taco Bell food would send Leah into a feeding frenzy of the utmost insanity.

Seth sat across from his sister. To the casual observer he looked like a ripped and fit Native American man in his late twenties. Seth, however, was only fourteen years old; the wolf gene had caused a mega growth spurt.

On his face was a look of concealed disgust as he watched his sister inhale a double beef burrito. He'd lost count of how many she'd eaten but he was certain that the number was hovering at about ten thousand.

Really it was lucky that Leah had a job as a night manager for another Taco Bell, giving her a discount at any Taco Bell in the region. Without those discounts, Seth didn't think that their family would be able to pay for that kind of taco quantity. And he didn't want to find out if his sister could get desperate enough to steal a crate load of tacos while in her wolf form.

As her brother, he was both the best and worst person to try and correct her behaviour. As his sister, she listened to him slightly more than she did outsiders and she knew deep down that he loved her. Also he was the worst person for the job because her words cut all the deeper because he was family. Family should never talk to each other that way.

Leah ripped into a limited-time-only specialty dish after the burrito. It wasn't a taco per se but it was close enough for her taste buds.

Swallowing his hesitation, Seth tried to address his sister. "Uh, Leah, can we talk?"

Through bites of taco and ragged breaths, Leah managed to growl out, "Talk. Later. Food. Now."

Seth tapped his fingers on the tabletop and looked around, trying to hide his embarrassment. This was not a discussion that could wait. "Leah, no offense, but you need to lay off the fast food. If it wasn't for your werewolf metabolism you'd have an ass the size of a city bus."

Naturally, Leah didn't take to that remark too well. Grunting with fullness and wiping her face with a napkin, she ground out, "If it wasn't for the werewolf gene, I wouldn't be in this situation."

Seth was losing patience with his sister and her blaming all her problems on the werewolf thing. Yes, it sucked to actually find out that the stories told to you by the tribal elders were real and it did suck that vampires were numerous, varied and utterly implacable foes. What Leah failed to get was that it was all a question of perspective. "Leah, you can't just keep blaming it on that. It's not going to change no matter how much you want it to. It's like hair or eye colour. For all you know Sam was planning to ditch you anyway."

Leah said in a low voice, "Yeah Seth, I can't keep blaming it on the genes." She lunged forward and grabbed Seth by the collar of his shirt. With a murderous look on her face, Leah dragged Seth forward until their noses touched. "But what I can do is kick your ass for saying that I'm fat and that Sam was going to leave me."

Leah wound up a fist, ready to just friggin drill her brother in the chops. Luckily for Seth he was spared the pleasure of having his face rearranged by his psycho sis' by the arrival of the wolf pack. Oh yes, Seth's face was saved for now.

The wolf pack was impossible to miss. Like Seth they whole lot of them were taller than the norm and ripped with muscle, like a pack of martial artists; lean and quick. Their heights varied but not a one was shorter than six and one half feet tall. Seth was the short man out at six foot two.

Historically the wolf pack had only ever numbered at three but the pack of the modern day numbered at seven. The theory among the elders was that this was to balance out against the numbers of the Cullens.

Entering the Taco Bell, the pack attracted bad looks from some of the more narrow minded residents of the area, but it wasn't like those bigots' opinions mattered.

The pack strode in from the pouring rain outside. With their ultra high body temperature, they barely even noticed the cold rain.

Sam entered first, leader of the band sporting a shaven head. On his heels was none other than Quil Ateara, large and muscular even by the standards of the pack. Then was Embry Cal, bad boy of the pack and the one whose unknown father caused tension within the bunch. Jared arrived next, self styled funny man, although his jokes earned a lack of laughs. Like a gloomy storm cloud, Paul followed; the temper of the group. Finally came Jacob Black, douche bag and friend to Bella Swan.

The sight of all these guys caused Leah to reluctantly let go of her brother. Besides, she could kick his ass about him calling her fat when they got home. Mom was working tonight and she'd have open season on her brother then.

Embry swaggered forward, his cigarette throwing off a thin trail of acridic smoke. With his emo haircut and boyish face, Leah thought he might have a future in a Japanese anime. "Queen Bitchness, how goes the night, milady?"

"Fuck you, Embry," She was much too full of Taco to come up with a proper witty retort.

Jared supplied the answer for Embry. "Gee Leah, we'd like too but we've all got a date with Shania Twain." He didn't realize that the dead silence that followed meant the joke stunk.

Seth greeted the pack brightly. In many aspects he looked up to these guys, especially Jacob whom he viewed as an older brother. "Hey guys! What's the skinny?"

Embry laughed at Seth's quaint language and tendency to avoid swearing in all but the manliest situations. He patronizingly ran a hand through Seth's hair, which Seth did not enjoy. Nobody knew where Embry's hands had been and fewer still knew the last time when he'd washed them. "Seth, you are such a fucking apple."

Seth swatted away Embry's hands from his head. At least when Jacob's hands were dirty you knew that it was only engine grease. If it wasn't for the heightened immunity of a wolf, Embry might have a skin infection somewhere. "Piss off, Embry. What's an apple anyhow?"

Jared leaned on Seth like a piece of furniture, something befitting the lowest man on the totem pole. "You're kidding right? An apple: red on the outside, white on the inside."

Seth immediately objected to that label. "I'm not white!"

Embry put out his cigarette on his hand. "Sure Seth, keep telling yourself that."

"I'm not!" the young wolf furiously denied. He was more of a russet color.

"Hey Embry," Leah called out, "which drunken loser is your mom sleeping with tonight?"

Instantly, Embry's easy going manner vanished. His body began to tremble as if he was about to burst out of his skin. When in wolf form the pack shared a hive mind and saw each other's secrets. Because of this, Leah knew how to make verbal barbs that caused maximum pain.

She laughed callously. "Sorry, which _five _drunken losers is she fucking tonight?"

It was almost certain that Embry was going to phase into wolf mode and attack Leah; naturally Leah would whup his ass. Except it didn't happen because Sam called them off with the alpha command in his voice. "_Stop it_."

Like magic, Leah and Embry stopped their pissing contest. Embry stopped shaking and Leah put down her napkin. Her lips were sealed but her anger was still very much strong.

Sam sighed. At times the role of pack leader was a hard one. It meant that people had to obey his orders but it wasn't worth the stress. He almost wished that Jacob had stepped up to the plate and become the alpha. He sat himself down next to Seth and the rest of the pack crowded around, making sure that nobody in the nearly empty Taco Bell was listening. "It's about the pack business."

Vampires. They'd been terrorizing the city of Seattle for months now. The newspapers reported it as a series of kidnappings and murders. Most likely the death toll was much higher than the number of bodies found by the cops.

More disturbing than that was the fact that a vampire had been on their turf. Time and time again, the pack chased after that one same Unstet but always it somehow eluded them. It was time for a new strategy.

Sam continued at the expressions of immediate understanding and animosity. Leah in particular looked keen for the next hunt. She hated vampires, especially the Cullens since she blamed them for her transformation. She wasn't the largest wolf in the pack but she was one of the most motivated. The only thing she attacked with more ferocity than vampires were tacos. If she fought vampires with the same energy as she ate tacos, then even Alucard would have to book a one way ticket to the moon. "We need a new strategy. I think that this vampire on our land is behind the infestation in Seattle."

Leah was chomping at the bit. "I say we phase, run into Seattle in the middle of the day and smash those blood sucking mother fuckers into bits."

Jacob begged to differ. "That's too dangerous. There'd be too many civilians to worry about in a fight. We need to get them in a place where we have the advantage."

Embry scoffed. "Jake we can fight any place, any time. Those bastards can only come out at night."

Seth offered an idea. "Maybe we should talk to the Cullens." This idea didn't prove to be very popular. While not as much as Leah, all of the pack hated the Cullens passionately. Seth was wary of them, aware that they might snap at a moment's notice but he was convinced of their essential decency.

Quil punched Seth in the arm, making the young man wince with pain. "Leave those bloodsuckers out of this. They're probably the ones responsible for it."

Leah couldn't agree more. "Yeah Quil, let's go and take them all out now."

Sam wanted to kill the Cullens, but he knew what they were capable of. They were a small but highly empowered group of vampires with potent powers. They could kill the Cullens but it would be pyretic victory.

Jacob spoke up. "Wait, I think that I know how to lure the vampires into the open."

Sam rolled his shoulders. "How?"

"I think that the vampires are after Bella Swan. We can trick them into following her scent with a piece of hair or something."

Jared took to the idea quickly. "Better yet, we can use the leech lover as bait. We'll just tell her that it'll save her boyfriend."

A few of the pack members nodded but Jake was very much against it. "Fuck you, Jared. We're not using Bella as bait. She's my friend."

Leah took advantage of the opening present to her. "A friend or a friend with benefits, Jake?" Her sardonic tone caused Jake to twitch with the inborn energy of the wolf. How dare she insinuate that he and Bella were fuck buddies. He'd show her skanky ass.

The war meeting of the pack was interrupted. Thunder shook the sky just as the doors to the restaurant were opened. The two men that entered attracted even more attention than the band of Native American wolf warriors.

The one man was a veritable giant, tall and built like a weight lifter with gigantic muscles that not even steroids would provide. His voice boomed so that even though he wasn't yelling you could hear his voice from far away. "So who's this Wesker guy Edward keeps hearing in your mind?"

The second figure was smaller but far more outlandish. Seth and Leah, both anime fans, had to blink and do a double take as soon as they laid eyes on him. His blonde hair was styled in a fashion that spiked straight up. Swirling around him like smoke was a black leather jacket. A ludicrously long sword with a curved handle was strapped to his back. From his bouncing step to tight pants he looked every bit an anime character come to life.

Zohall said to Emmett. "Albert Wesker is the most dangerous man alive. He's the biggest big shot on the bio organic weapons market. He's the king of all evil; though he's not as bad as Revolver Ocelot from _Metal Gear_. The day that Wesker can shoot down a chopper by pointing at it and saying 'boom' is the day we're all screwed."

It was then that the wolf pack was hit by Emmett's scent. It was a sick and sweet scent, like an artificial sweetener injected in lethal doses. It seemed to overpower every other scene in the room. Emmett was like the ultimate air freshener except that he was killing the noses of the pack.

Emmett however was affected just as dramatically as the pack was. Their scene was rancid to him; days rotted wolf meat half gnawed by pigs and then spat out. He wouldn't even dream of drinking that blood except if it was the last in the universe.

Zohall gestured to the pack in a friendly way that allowed him to show off the biker gloves that Alice got him. He still hated her. "Yo, my Native brothers; what's up?" He spotted a familiar face. "Hey Quil, how's the sawed off princess?"

Quil walked towards the blonde swordsman. "Hey, Zohall, right; how are you, man? Claire is doing just fine. Do you still have that cougar head?"

"Hell yes," Zohall returned happily, "I've got it on ice back at the Cullen house."

A cloud passed over Quil's face. He utterly detested the Cullens and hated to think of this soul having connections with them in any way. "What are they to you?"

Zohall chuckled. "I'm staying with them. They're going to be working under me. Can you believe it? Me, a friggin commander; like Rommel or Genghis Khan."

Quil looked at Zohall warily. "So, do you know what they are? The Cullens, I mean."

Zohall gave Quil a "_bitch, please_" look. "Yeah, I know that they're vampires and all that kind of shit. Speaking of which, how do you know what they are? Did they eat some of your pets or something?"

"No way, man," Seth belted out, "we're the wolf pack." His overt confession caused the other members of the pack to pelt him with Leah's used taco wrappers. Leah even managed to land a smack across the mouth. Sam had ordered the pack not to reveal the secret to outsiders but in a moment of childish exuberance, Seth had gone and disobeyed an alpha order.

Quil alone seemed to not fault Seth for his honesty. "Hey, hey, guys! It's alright; this guy is cool. He's the one that saved Claire."

At the mention of his little Claire-bear, Leah sniped. "Oh yeah, your creepy relationship with a toddler. If you don't watch yourself you'll be on the show, _To Catch a Predator_."

Quil turned beet red with fury. "FUCK YOU, LEAH!"

"Loser," Leah muttered too softly for him to hear.

Zohall tried to stop the madness. "Whoa, guys, take a pill. We're all friends here." He turned to Emmett. "Isn't that right—oh man."

Emmett had done a complete one eighty. Normally the big guy was like a teddy bear, all cuddly despite the huge muscles. Right about now he looked like he was ready to kill somebody. His normally dimpled smile was set into a murderous look. The words out of his mouth were similarly cruel. "Me and my family are no friends of these _mutts_." The way he said the word "mutts" made it sound like they'd already killed his family.

In response to his racial werewolf slur, the wolves started to get agitated. Even placid Seth was looking a bit steamed.

Zohall did not want a fight to break out. Placing himself between Emmett and the pack, he tried to smooth things out. "Hey guys, don't get stressed. Big Daddy Carlisle was just out contacting the elders and trying to work out an alliance. Me and the moose over here were just trying to get some dinner when we found you guys."

The rest of the pack remained on edge but Seth could see what Zohall was attempting to do. "I noticed your clothes, who are you cosplaying? Is it Ichigo?"

Zohall mercer was deeply offended by Seth's remark even though it diffused the situation. "I'm not cosplaying anybody, you jackass. These are my street clothes!"

Emmett snapped out of his killing mode and returned back to his teddy bear self. "Really?"

Jared looked at Zohall. "I would have said that you were Ash Ketchum." This time his joke earned a laugh from everyone.

The swordsman of Hellsing rolled his eyes at the laughter. Damn Indian kid; it should have been his role to calm everyone down. "Okay guys, grow up. I haven't watched _Pokemon _in years."

Sam looked at Zohall incredulously. "You watch _Pokemon_? And we're supposed to make an alliance with you?" Sam permitted himself a rare laugh.

Zohall's shoulders slumped. "I hate all of you guys." His bad mood however was interrupted. Having battled monsters for more than seven years, his vigilance was bar none. Even Integra wasn't as observant as he. You had to be that way when zombies came from every corner and other beasties regularly burst through the walls, ceiling and floor. "Guys, the floor is vibrating."

The vibrations were getting stronger and Zohall barely leapt out of the way. To the shock of everyone, a seven foot tall man exploded out of the floor dressed in priest's robes.

"HA!" he laughed

_The Fortress of souls_

_Rip Van Winkle never thought that she would go to hell one day. During her idealistic days of serving the third Reich, she'd truly believed that Hitler and the Nazi party held the key to Germany's revival. With that Nazi uniform, Rip had believed that in her own small way she was contributing to the revival of the Fatherland. _

_Apparently her activities with the Nazi party weren't as free of sin as she'd imagined and now she was paying for them with interest. _

_For all of his faults, Hitler had been a relatively good master to Rip even though he'd grown cold to her presence as soon as he found out that she was intelligent and driven. _

_Oh hell, she'd even take Marshal Zhukov over Alucard. Zhukov had taken Rip as a trophy during the fall of Berlin and he'd had her savagely attacked by dogs and still demanded that she pleasure him after lunch time. _

_Nobody could be worse than Alucard for a captor because only he could make her life a living hell like this. The vampire lord was totally unpredictable. He'd come in at odd hours and Rip was never sure what to do. _

_Some days he'd come in and be a perfect gentleman. He'd be polite, generous and he'd provide her with whatever she asked for. _

_Other days he'd be just pissed as hell. Every little thing would set him into a sadistic rage. On these days his libido would go into full throttle without any sort of decency or shame to restrain it. _

_He never raped her per se and he was fond of bragging to Rip how he never tried to rape her. That said, it didn't stop him from beating her senseless with a rock two weeks ago and shoving a cucumber into her vagina. The psychological damage would last for years and the truly tragic thing was that events like this weren't rare in Alucard's fortress of souls. _

_Thus under Alucard, Rip was living in a perpetual state of fear. She didn't know if she was going to get Alucard's good or bad side. _

_One thing that was consistent about Alucard was that he loved to sing and dance. He hated playing musical instruments so he always had his familiars handle the music for him. _

_Today he was rocking out to heavy metal music. This heavy metal music celebrated the defeat of the third Reich. While it had been a while since the war had ended, it still hurt for Rip when Alucard played songs like this. It felt like he was mocking her. _

_**Attero!**_  
_**Dominatus!**_  
_**Berlin is burning**_  
_**Denique!**_  
_**Interimo!**_  
_**The reich has fallen**_

_Alucard's voice was like thunder. He gestured whildly as a band of enslaved souls rocked out with heavy metal vengence. The music hit Rip's ears with the force of a hammer. The music made her feel like banging her head against a wall._

_**The spring of the year 45'**_  
_**The year when the nazis will fall**_  
_**We're inside the gates of Berlin**_  
_**The beak of the eagle is broken**_

_The worst part was how he made her listen to this shit every time he was here. As a dead soul, she could feel no pain but this music was giving her an ungodly headache. _

**_March!_**  
**_Fight!_**  
**_Die!_**  
**_In Berlin!_**  
**_March!_**  
**_Fight!_**  
**_Conquer!_**  
**_Berlin!_**

_Really, this was worse than claws on a chalk board._

_As the song finished, Alucard grinned pleasantly at her. "Well Rip, did you enjoy today's music selection?"_

_The answer to that question was preordained. Rip was not going to risk saying now to his query. Too often that course of action had brought out his bad side. So she lied. "Yes, I enjoyed it very much."_

_The room they were in was like many in the fortress in that it was made from cold, carved stone and had a ridiculously high ceiling that would have been impossible to build in the real world. Unlike other rooms, this place featured warm fireplaces and lovely gold decoration that did worlds to brighten up the place. _

_Rip and Alucard sat at a table across from each other. Alucard was dressed up in a silk smoking jacket and slippers. The smoking jacket was unbuttoned at the top in order to show off his prodigiously hairy chest. In his leather seat, he looked comfortable and relaxed. In reverse of the real world, his hair was long and flowing again. _

_Rip too sat in a comfortable leather chair but by no means was she comfortable. Alucard had stripped her naked hours ago and forced her to wear a pair of striped pyjamas and a small matching box cap. She looked like a captive Jew in a concentration camp. _

_The likelihood was that this look was deliberate. Alucard wanted her to feel vulnerable and small so that she'd be more compliant to his demands. Even his good side wasn't totally good. _

_Alucard brushed a lock of hair from his face. He smiled at her warmly. "You know Rip; I'm glad that we met." He shifted in his seat to try and get more comfortable. "Before I met you, this place was nice. I stayed here when the world became too much, like a nerd escaping to the World of Warcraft." _

_Rip didn't know what World of Warcraft was but she didn't have enough interest to ask. _

"_Back before you arrived," a euphemism for before he ate her, "this place felt flat. There was food and space but all of it felt fake. Now with you around, everything feels just like real. When I bite into cheese or smell the air, it feels like God's creation."_

_Rip nodded and smiled politely. _

_Feeling a craving, Alucard snapped his fingers and a small table materialized. Sitting on that table was a plate with a block of cheese on it. Using a small knife, Alucard took a bit for himself and savoured it like it was rich blood. _

_After a few minutes of chewing, he started to show off his knowledge as a cheese connoisseur. "It's kashkeval; as a human it was one of my favourites. Please, have a bit."_

_Rip stared at the slightly yellowish block of cheese with her nerves tingling with fear. In the fortress she was never subject to thirst or hunger so she had no reason to eat the cheese. _

_The last time Alucard had gotten her something to eat; he'd suffered a malicious stroke of genius and has sprinkled the pasta with broken glass. The pain had lingered long after the damage healed. But the repercussion of turning down cheese with Alucard was not a good idea. He was a cheese fanatic. _

_Reluctantly, Rip took a small knife and sliced off a tiny piece for herself. Taking a small bite, she found that the stuff was a bit salty for her tastes. _

_Alucard watches here with wide eyes. His tongue started to stick out and he began to drool a little. All he could stare at was Rip's mouth as she chewed on that small bit of cheese. All that mattered was the chewing of the cheese. _

_In a lusty, oily voice he told her. "Yes, Rip; eat the cheeeeese!"_

_The way he was staring at her was totally creepy. It was like he wanted to slice off a piece of her instead of the kashkeval. He was getting horny from watching her nibble cheese. _

_Rip did her best to choke the cheese down and eat the rest of it; with Alucard looking at her it was like swallowing sand. _

_A few minutes later and he'd returned to the suave persona that he liked to put on in hopes that it would make her sleep with him. He began to make small talk. "So Rip, do you ever find it lonely here in the fortress?"_

_She didn't respond. She only looked at him with wide, blue eyes and slightly open mouth. The part of her brain for forming words wasn't working. _

_On her head, the single curl of black hair that always defied gravity was being oppressed by the black and white striped hat she was being forced to wear. _

"_I'm sure it must be hard on you her; all by yourself with only the souls I've deprived of free will to keep you company."_

_Alucard remained ignorant of Rip's feelings; he didn't care one bit about them. "What I'm trying to say is that if you ever need someone to confide in or to have some physical company I am always here." He finished his little speech by smiling and winking at her. _

_Rip mumbled something that was below Alucard's hearing range. He cocked his head and asked politely. "Pardon, Rip?"_

_Rip stumbled. "I—I—I" the words came bursting forward. "I hate you!"_

_The words hit Alucard like a physical blow. "What did you say?" His voice was a dangerous hiss. _

"_You heard me!" Rip shouted as she tore off her hat and let her curl free. "I hate you!"_

_Alucard glared at her. His hands gripped the armrest of his so hard that the leather threatened to shred."_

"_I hate you more than I've hated anyone before," her voice was shrill with anger. "You beat, torture and abuse me whenever you want and __**then**__ you have the audacity to act like some love sick puppy."_

_Alucard's gloved hand ripped into the leather chair while his other hand gripped the cheese knife with white knuckles. _

_Rip's eyes started to get blurry and she began to sob. "You pretend to love me but you hate me and have no respect. You torment me with your death music. WHY CAN'T WE EVER LISTEN TO WHAT I WANT TO!"_

_Rip grabbed the cloth cap and pulled at it in vain, trying to rip it apart. "I'm nothing to you but a toy. It makes me sick to death when you pretend to be nice because it's just that: pretend. It just insults my intelligence."_

_Finally, all those years of abuse and torment, Rip just let it all out. "Alucard I hate you; GO AND DIE!"_

_Silence hung but this was the complete opposite of comfortable. Rip felt hollow after her confession because she'd confessed to a man who had as much empathy as a stone statue. Alucard was without a doubt the worst person to come to with emotional baggage. Even when he was in his "good" mode, he really only cared about himself. _

_He was cruel, vain and driven by greed and for some reason Alucard had a look of hurt on his face for the briefest of moments. _

_Alucard was a man of many masks. Rip had no idea what was real with him and what wasn't. Perhaps even he didn't know when he was wearing a mask and when he wasn't. _

_Suddenly, Alucard smiled at Rip in a way that promised nothing good. _

_Rip was suddenly filled with fear. In vain she tried to put back on the box cap. "Uh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of it, I promise."_

_The fireplaces gave off light but they'd stopped giving heat. The room's temperature was dropping but due to her strange condition, Rip was unaffected by the temperature. Her breath misted in the air. _

_Alucard stood up from his chair. Gone was his smoking jacket and slippers and in their place was a Ming warrior's leather and metal studded armour. To complete the look, Alucard altered his physical appearance to include a long Fu Manchu moustache that dangled down to his chest. "So, you like cheese," he snarled with a malicious grin. _

_Rip began to beg and plead like a wino looking for one more bottle. "Please, please have mercy on me."_

_Alucard was suddenly hit by a burst of inspiration. He stroked his theatrical moustache for emphasis. "I just had a marvellous idea. Do you want to hear?"_

_Rip started to shake with fear and spastically shake her head. The comfy leather chair had turned into a hard wooden stool. "Please, just leave me alone. I've done nothing to you."_

_Alucard held up a big block of his beloved kashkeval. "I just wanted to find out how much cheese I would have to force feed you until you exploded into a bloody mist." The idea pleases him like candy pleases a three year old. His grin is chillingly happy about the whole affair. On another it would look like a smile of innocence. _

_Rip screamed bloody murder as the stood turned into a chain with manacles for the wrists and ankles. She was totally trapped and about to be tormented by a complete fuck-nut. _

_Alucard spun around and shouted at the top of his lungs. "BRING IN THE CHEESE!" Like magic, one whole wall lifted up like a raised curtain. Being driven by the enslaved soul of a Turkish soldier was a semi tractor trailer that was loaded with enough cheese to perform an act of terrorism with. _

_Rip freely cried. Tears ran down her face as she bawled uncontrollably. Why did this have to happen to her? There were worse Nazis who could be sitting here now. She was ever only a solider; she never worked in the death camps and she executed no prisoners. _

_Where was the justice? Where was the fairness? Where was the—_

_Cheese; Rip's crying was cut off when Alucard shoved a block of kashkeval down her throat. She gagged and choked as Alucard pulled out a ramrod and started to force it down her throat. _

_When he pulled out the ramrod, Rip choked and gagged, spitting chewed cheese all over the front of her striped shirt. The dark haired woman gasped for breath before Alucard grabbed her by the hair, causing her to squeak in pain. _

_He yelled at her. "If you throw up I'm going to shove that cheese someplace else!" He pulled back and had an epiphany. Dramatically he threw his hands in the air. "Cheese in the ear! I am a GENIUS!" He then put his hand to his chin. "But I'll try that some other time." _

_He then sprinted over to the truck and grabbed a crate of applewood smoked cheddar. He grinned most evily at Rip. "Okay Rip, we've only got 229,485 blocks of cheese left to go," he sang. _

_That's when Rip really started to break down and beg for God to kill her and send her to hell instead of stay one second longer here with this loon-burger. _

_Back in Forks_

"HA!" Laughed Anderson. He then quoted the bible: Durotonomy 23:1 "Naeone whose testicles are crushed or whose male organs is cut off shall enter tha' assemblo o' the Lord."

Zohall whipped out his heavily modified desert eagle handgun and aimed it at Anderson's head.

Meanwhile, the pack stood stunned at the seven foot tall man who was taller than any of them and bigger around than Emmett Cullen. By the dirt on his white gloves, which read "Speak with the dead" and "Jesus Christ walks among us"; the guy had actually dug his way under the Taco Bell with only his hands.

Embry just stared at Anderson with equal parts puzzlement and surprise. "What the fuck was that?"

Anderson narrowed his eyes at the young werewolf with the bad haircut. "Tha' was tha' holy word o' God. It was tha' bible!"

Jared objected. "Bullshit, that's not part of the bible."

"Yes it is!" Anderson barked at the youths, making them flinch and the staff behind the counter runs for cover. They didn't get paid nearly enough to stick around for wierd shit like this.

Anderson got straight to business. "Ah just want the vampire, the rest of ye can leave."

Zohall's features froze into a hard mold. When he looked like this, a person could really believe that he was a capable and highly trained killer. "Get the fuck back; we got no beef with you."

Emmett crouched down into fighting stance and growled at Anderson. The massive regenerator just grinned at Emett. Already his glands were firing up and soon his madness woud kick in. When that happened, there would only exist him and the person he wanted to kill.

Of the wolf pack, only Quil seemed to want to start a confrontation with the Catholic killer. "Hit the road, you altar boy raping faggot."

Anderson's head snapped in Quil's direction. His grin was still there but now his eyebrown twitched with anger. Anderson loved children and the greatest insult was to intimate that he would hurt them in any way. "Ye've got one warnin', boy. Run while ye still have yer legs."

Quil stood fast. "I'm not going anywhere. My grandfather lived in one of the residential schools when he was a kid. He told me all about what the priests and nuns would do to torture the students."

Anderson growled; this shit was taking him away from his primary and quite unsanctioned mission. "Listen, lad, I havnae got time fer this. Step aside."

Before anyone could react, Emmett made the first move. He lunged forward and used his patent approach of attacking head on. With the speed of a bullet and the strength of a locomotive, he charged Anderson and punched him right in the face.

Nimbly leaping over the hole Anderson created, the big lad heard bones crunch as Anderson took the blow.

Body reacting instantly, Anderson's legs bent to absorb the impact and his feet dug into the concrete floor, creating two deep ruts.

When Emmett stood to survey the damage, Anderson's head was folded down his back. In an impressive display of regeneration, his head popped up with a creak and the bloody mess of his face reformed.

Emmett was aghast. Nobody had ever taken a direct hit from him and gotten up like that before.

As he threw back his arm for another punch, Anderson lunged forward and head butted him, knocking Emmett down.

From out of his sleeve fell a bayonet and Anderson fully intended to make vampire sashimi out of Emmett. A thunderous gunshot saved Emmett's head.

Zohall fired a shot at Anderson and blew off the big man's hand. Anderson didn't look at all pained by the loss of his hand, just angry. He gritted his teeth and a new hand grew up from the bloody stump like a weed.

Out of the blue though, Quil attacked. He tore up a steel chair bolted to the floor and smashed Anderson across the head with it. The steel frame bent across Anderson's skull but he might as well have hit him with a fly swatter.

One beefy hand shot out and grabbed Quil across the throat. Brutally, he slammed the native American boy into the ground, cracking the floor.

Suddenly, Anderson felt a searing pain in the back of his left leg. Zohall Mercer had jumped over him like a grasshopper and sliced his left hamstring off.

Zohall was familiar with Anderson's abilities; such knowledge was standard at Hellsing since Anderson had carved up Seras all those years ago. Since his sword was unable to slice through the regenerator's dense bones, Zohall settled for the softer muscle.

Anderson's muscle was highly dense and slicing through it even with a sword as sharp as Gleam took great strength.

Almost immediately, the severed muscle became animate and began to speedily crawl towards the host body. Zohall put an end to that when he pinned it to the floor with throwing knives. The giant hunk of muscle squirmed like an impaled worm of Jurassic proportions.

The wolf pack was not idle. You attack one wolf you attack them all. Leah jumped at Anderson as he hobbled on his good leg.

Anderson couldn't even get a bayonet before the beautiful Quileute girl grabbed him by the collar and began to slap him in the face rapid fire. His head spun left and right under the force of her slaps like a sprinkler seen in fast forward.

As Leah's slapping disrupted his sense of balance further, Jacob and Jared ran to the side of him. There, the two of them rotated Anderson on the spot so that his back faced them. As if they'd practiced this a thousand times, they each grabbed a side of his shirt and lifted. The two wolf warriors bent backwards and flipped Anderson over their heads. The cumbersome regenerator arched over the two boys and his head slammed into the linoleum floor.

Miraculously, his body stayed in that position, standing on his head, for a full three seconds. Then he fell like a tree; like a tree with severe psychotic mental disorders.

The regenerator's psychosis taking over, Anderson's thoughts went on a murderous tandem. "_Spinning wheels of death, hurt, break, kill, HURT THEM!"_

Lunging like a trained assassin, Anderson grabbed Jared and put him over his knee. He then began to spank the hell out of Jared's ass; his monstrously big hand came up and down in a blur.

He spanked Jared at a speed of eighty spanks per second. It'd be a week before he could sit down again. After seven seconds of spanking, he hit Jared's ass hard enough that he flew out of the catholic's grip and flew head first into the counter.

Anderson's leg couldn't heal. The chunk of flesh taken was too big for instant healing and the missing flesh was too close for his body to get the message to heal. It really hurt when Zohall thrust his sword through the back of Anderson's left knee, coming out the top of the knee cap, between the bones.

Anderson started to spin around, but with his leg injured he couldn't perform his usual superhuman feats. Zohall grabbed onto his sword as centrifugal force pulled him outwards.

Finally, after what seemed ages of spinning like a top, the sword slid out of Anderson's knee and Zohall went flying into the menu before going down like a rock.

Bellowing like a bull, Anderson grabbed two bayonets from his coat. "ENOUGH! Ah'll kill ye all!"

Before he could kill, pussy cat, kill, Embry sprayed him in the eyes with a can of red paint he used for various and sundry acts of vandalism.

Anderson screamed in pain and dropped his blades, putting his hands to his eyes. He was truly a pathetic sight. The Vatican's trump card; a man who'd fought against Alucard and lived to tell the tale was now crying red latex tears. The man was undone by the cleverness of some kids, only one of them properly human.

Emmett's head was now properly reattached. He jumped on Anderson's back and bit the regenerator on the back of the head.

In pain, Anderson bit off his own tongue and threw Emmett right through the shop window as if he were a softball.

The pack stood ready, hesitant to shift because of the security cameras but more than ready to kill Anderson.

The regenerator's psychosis was all worn out. Anderson realized now was time for a tactical retreat. The venom in Emmett's bite was stunting his healing, his leg wound was still not healing and his immune system couldn't process the latex paint.

First thing, he took care of his eyes. He tore out both eyes as easily as plucking eyebrows. The pack flinched at this gruesome display.

In his bare hand, Anderson's eyes melted into stem cells and were absorbed into his skin. A new pair of eyes then grew into his sockets.

Then, he pulled the throwing knives from his poor hamstring. Freed from its constraints, the hamstring happily returned to its home on Anderson's leg.

He surveyed his enemies. The pack stood lined up like a wall of muscle and sinew ready to grow teeth and claws. Sam, Leah, Jared, Embry, Quil, Seth, Paul and Jacob all were poised to kill. Cameras or no cameras, they'd turn to wolf form and strike him down. Next to them, Emmett growled at Anderson. While charging into battle agains this heathens would be holy and worthy, it wouldn't be smart. Smartness was a vampire hunter's most important tool.

As he pulled a bible from his jacket, Anderson's foot twitched and he fell flat on his face. Grumbling in a most un-catholic way, he picked himself and opened the bible. The right side of his body seemed to be twitching; it caused him to drop his bible.

Anderson panicked when he saw he'd lost his bible. Frantically he got on the ground and started to look around for it.

Strangely enough, he couldn't see his bible even though it was just to the right of him. Deciding to hell with it, Anderson got up and started to run away somewhat shakily. As he ran, he rattled off a warning to the enemies of the lord. "Even if good people fall sevn' times, theh will ge' back up. But when trouble strikes tha' wicked, tha's the end o' them!"

On the way out, he missed the door and ran through a window. Outside, he ended up tripping on a cat, which meowed painfully.

At that moment, Zohall sprang up from behind the counter. "I'm okay!" He jumped up and down to demonstrate how injured he wasn't. "I'm alright!"

Nimbly he leapt over the counter and Jared's sore assed form. Zohall bounced as he ignored Jared's pained moans.

The Hellsing operative felt the need to congratulate the only people that had stuck around for the fight with Anderson. All the customers had fled with the staff. "Great job guys, you just took down a major badass vampire hunter."

Emmett merely laughed, the scent of werewolf was no longer driving him out of his usual salt of the Earth self. "That guy was a pushover. I could handle him with one arm missing and my dick in his mom's mouth."

This was quite a claim since his head hadn't fully reattached to his broad shoulders.

Zohall checked his watch. "Oh man, we gotta pick up Seras." He started to sprint for the door, calling goodbyes as he did.

Knowing the importance of keeping secrecy, Emmett rapidly zoomed into the security room and swiped the security footage. On his way out, he gave a polite goodbye to the pack. "See ya, wolf guys." It wasn't friendly but at least it was civil. Maybe the pack and the Cullens could get along after all. It'd just take some work.

Tommorow, the training to fight an army of newborns would begin.

_Rome, Italy, fifteen hours later_

"So Anderson, aside from returning to America without orders and making an utter fool of yourself in front of our most laughable enemies, when did you realize that you couldn't see out of one eye?"

Anderson explained to his boss. "When ah went to brush ma teeth; ah couldn't see one half o' ma face."

The Iscariot leader scowled. Maxwell wasn't impressed with Anderson at all. Tomorrow morning, Anderson was going to do the hardest workout of his life.

* * *

And that's all folks! I hope you enjoyed this. This was fun to write and I'd like to thank all of my readers and reviewers. Don't forgett to check out my favorites section for some truly great reads. This story is moving places. After the fight, we'll have the wedding and after the wedding, comes what I like to call "the final battle." It's gonna be great.

I'd like to also say that Anderson's bible quote was one hundred percent real, both of them. So it looks like castratos aren't going to heaven after all. The song featured here was _Attero Dominatus _Sabaton. I don't own that song or Sabaton, but check them out. THey're pure one hundred percent Swedish Power Metal for those of you who like that stuff.

Ta

Master of teh Boot


	33. Wesker's Dilemma

The Big Hellsing: Wesker's Dilemma

Chapter 33

Hello to all my fans :D It's been so long since I updated this story. Now, this chapter will be largely Wesker centric and will help to shed light onto why he's relevant to the story and why he joined with the Volturi in the first place. As per usual, requests will be considered but things are wrapping up and so I'm a little less open to requests now. But don't be discouraged :) You can still ask

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil, Twilight, Hellsing or Xombie. Those belong to their respective owners. Enjoy ;)

* * *

If there was one thing that Albert Wesker really did love, it was his bagpipes. With his nasal New England accent and bright blonde hair, he was hardly the picture of the stereotypical bagpipe player. He'd never even worn a kilt in his life. Originally he took up bagpipes to piss off old Spencer, but he soon grew to love the noisy Scottish instrument.

Wesker sat on his bed in his room. The room was small and Spartan. The Volturi had not offered him anything bigger and Wesker had not asked for it. They'd paid him most handsomely for the services he rendered; he was given more than his fill in women, money, books and blood. The blood was especially good in this job; Wesker had begun to develop a taste for it.

The blond polymath sat on his small but comfortable bed, stroking his bagpipes like a beloved pet. Off to his left were his ever present sunglasses, taken off to reveal his red eyes with catlike slits for pupils.

His all black clothing was present and clean as ever, but his black dress shirt was slightly wrinkled from the day's activities and the sleeves were rolled up.

Wesker adjusted his hair for a moment. Despite being able to withstand massive temperature differentials thanks to the modification and improvement of his DNA, he still did not like Italy's warm climate. He would much rather stroll through Raccoon City's brisk autumn streets than bake in Volterra's Mediterranean sun.

The experimental virus had done many things for him. He was faster, stronger and smarter; but his suntan wasn't getting any better. A few hours without sun block would still turn him into a human lobster.

If Chris or Claire could see Wesker in his sunburned state . . . he'd really just lose it on them.

So Wesker sat in his room, fiddling with his musical instrument and generally being a whole heck of a lot less impressive than his enemies and allies were used to seeing him.

The cause for this was simple but rather life threatening. Today Aro was planning to make physical contact with the ex-Umbrella scientist. When he did that, he would see every thought and memory that Albert Wesker had ever had in his life.

When he did that, Aro would see not only Wesker's plan to betray the Volturi but it would expose the grand designs of Wesker's mysterious masters who spoke to him in the form of a voice in his head.

If the Volturi didn't kill him for betraying him, then the other masters of his would.

That was why failure was not an option. Wesker would have only victory.

The thing was, Albert Wesker was just the slightest bit depressed by having to use a druid and a necromancer to erase key bits of memory and rewrite them.

For years he'd denied the existence of a soul; that was a concept for the weak minded. Really, all that a human being consisted of was a unique brain map which could be changed or destroyed by the slightest change of environmental circumstances.

Wesker had been happy when it was someone else, but now it was his brain map which was going to be tampered with.

It was a slightly oppressive feeling, knowing that all one was; their achievements, their brilliance and their iron will to dominate, were nothing more than a quirk of neuron arrangement.

Depression wasn't a state of mind native to Wesker; normally he was too busy tending to his megalomaniacal plots and killing his foes to worry. Now though, he had nothing to take his mind off of it.

Reaching into his front pocket, Wesker withdrew a large calibre handgun. The feel of the weapon's stock and the trigger at his finger felt comforting.

Pointing it ahead of him and taking aim, he pretended to shoot at imaginary targets. His imagination painted a vivid picture of brains, skull and blood splattering all over the wall. It was a lovely mental image.

Wesker pointed his gun to the left and pantomimed pulling the trigger. He could see it in his mind's eye; Chris Redfield shot though the spine. He'd leave Christ there; better to let the zombies eat him than give him a soldier's death.

He aimed his gun to the right and mimed shooting twice. The fantasy felt so real that he could almost smell the cordite.

Sweet Claire Redfield; he fantasized about making her suck on the barrel of his handgun before doing the deed and finishing her. He wondered if she'd break down and cry in real life.

Finally he imagined that Zohall Mercer, friend to Leon Kennedy. Oh, he'd have something special for that kid. Slice open his hamstring and leave him to die; then watch him commit suicide because the pain was so intense. Restoring the handgun to his pocket and putting the violent fantasies to the back of his psyche, Wesker was feeling considerably better about this whole thing.

This was bigger than him; this was about his life's work. The work had value even if nothing else did. And it was the pursuit of greater and greater works which was going to make him great.

These fool vampires were complacent; every last one of them. They prided themselves on their own stagnation. But Albert Wesker would be the eternal learner. He would continue to grow and learn until none in creation could surpass him.

The right to be a god was his; all that he needed to do was take it and like a hero of Greek mythology, slay the monsters and obstacles that stood in his way.

Getting up, Wesker went to the small bathroom which was a part of his accommodations. Looking at himself in the mirror, he started to rehearse some of the lines that he'd gone over in his mind earlier.

"Hello, Chris," Wesker snarled into the mirror.

No, not enough venom. "Hello, _Chris_," a little better; there was still time to improve.

He then tried a line he'd been working on for some time. "I will have total global saturation."

The line would have sounded a lot better if Wesker had a fucking clue how he was going to totally saturate the globe. The research he was conducting, both for the Volturi and for his secret masters was highly energy and time intensive. He'd only just begun on the initial stages of research. His bosses were just going to have to be patient.

For now, all he could do was deliver his lines to inspire terror. "Total _global_ saturation."

Eh, it was lacking somehow. "_Total_ global saturation."

Bit better. "_Total _global _saturation, _Chris!"

A voice came from behind Wesker. "What the hell are you doing?"

Acting on a knee jerk reflex, Wesker whipped out his gun, cocked it and aimed it at the speaker's head.

Wesker relaxed slightly when he saw that it was only his druid ally; but he did not lower his weapon.

"I'm sorry," Wesker said sarcastically, "I thought I'd told you not to enter my room without permission. What I must have said was, 'idiots are always welcome."

"I'm not an idiot," came the dry voice of the Romanian Necromancer Boris Dragosani. He appeared jus behind the druid. Dragosani was munching on a mini bag of _cheetos_.

The Druid explained something to Wesker. "I did knock. Me and Dragosani were knocking in that door for over five minutes. We could hear you from outside."

Wesker blinked. He really got into rehearsing his lines, didn't he? "That's irrelevant at the moment. Are the both of you ready to begin?"

Dragosani nodded and wiped his _cheeto _stained fingers on a napkin. He then reached down and grabbed a large leather satchel. "I am prepared whenever you are, comrade Wesker."

Wesker then turned to the druid, whose face was hidden by a dark cloak. "And what of you, my friend?"

"I'm not the one who's afraid to through with the plan that was your own idea."

Wesker stiffened at the accusation but said nothing.

Pulling up a chair from his tiny desk, Wesker gave both his magical assistants a look. "I don't need to remind you how important this is. Because if you fail to do this procedure correctly, I've made provisions that both of you crash and burn. Succeed and I'll reward you with what you desire most."

Dragosani stiffened at the threat but his eyes gleamed with the promise of reward. If Wesker was honest, then he was planning to reward him with more than the Volturi ever were.

The druid remained unreadable within his dark hood and tattered green garments. His response was decidedly hostile. "Just shut up and let me do my work."

Thus it began that Albert Wesker, middle aged man and serial betrayer, had his memories modified and erased. During the magic ritual, Wesker began to have flashbacks of earlier times; both of memories that needed to be changed and of memories which had no influence on upcoming designs.

_Umbrella Training facility_

_Little Albert Wesker was five years old. Already he was showing signs of genius, easily surpassing his classmates at Umbrella's academy for the children of high ranking employees and executives._

_Little Albert was an angry little guy; during his school sessions he was forced to attend class alongside boys and girls much older than him, which made him lonely. When school was over, he was sent back to the boys and girls his own age; they bored him because they were just so darn stupid._

_Thus, Little Albert preferred to spend time with his books and his toys, usually stolen from the communal toy trunk._

_Tonight was bedtime and like a good Umbrella child, little Albert did as he was told. Underneath the covers were the little toys that he'd pilfered from the toy box. Climbing into his bed just like hundreds of other little children groomed to be Umbrella's next generation of amoral psychopaths; Wesker felt something he'd hidden on his person._

_Little Albert stared at the butterfly knife in his hand. One of the teenagers had it in his mathematics class. The dumb bastard probably still didn't know it was missing._

_In the dark, Wesker admired the shiny curve of the steel blade and its sharpness._

_With knife in hand, little Wesker was prepared to stab anyone who tried to take his toys. He might even kill them._

_Five Years Later_

_Years passed and Albert Wesker was now ten years old. At ten he was more intelligent than most twenty year olds and was reading at the college level._

_The young genius due to his great talent had caught the eye of Ozwell E. Spencer; co-founder and owner of Umbrella._

_Today was a very special day for Wesker because he had won Umbrella's Management Training Science Fair. His special experiment on fusion had won him the title of most brilliant researcher here._

_The twenty and older scientists who were just beginning their Umbrella-style university education all glared at Wesker with contempt and sometimes even open hatred. But that suited Wesker just fine._

_If anything, it was his pride to be hated. He loved seeing people jealous of him because of his great talent. It utterly fulfilled his ten year old power fantasies. Most kids had to wait to grow up to get his kind of recognition._

_As the events wrapped up and the losers got their consolation prizes, Wesker smiled widely as he hauled his project behind him in a red wagon. True, his fusion reactor only provided enough power to warm a cup of coffee; but then again how many ten year olds could build a working fusion reactor of any size?_

_Suddenly, old man Spencer was standing before Wesker. The old man had a way of doing that; he just seemed to appear and disappear without magic. His footsteps made no noise._

_Spencer was old but he was an imposing figure. The man walked like a king, always with his nose in the sky; he never looked left or right, as if nothing in the world could threaten him. Truth be told, Wesker was himself envious of the power and authority that Spencer enjoyed._

_As he'd been trained to do, Wesker nodded and greeted in proper fashion. "Good day, Mr. Spencer. How are you?"_

_Spencer smirked in his trademark fashion. "I'm doing well, my boy," his voice just screamed expensive education. "The more pertinent question is, how are you, young fellow?"_

_Inside, Wesker was bursting with excitement but he had no idea to properly express to his master. He settled for, "I'm doing fine, Mr. Spencer." Wesker would never forgive himself if he disrespected Spencer._

_Spencer smiled, flashing perfectly straight and white teeth. In a grandfatherly manner, he ran a hand through the lad's hair. "Well, young man; you have just revolutionized the scientific world. Surely you can be more descriptive than 'fine."_

_Wesker was at a loss for words. On the other hand, he was also a bit confused. He knew that Spencer was digging for something but he ultimately didn't know what it might be. People were much more difficult to predict than subatomic particles or laws of physics._

_Spencer smiled with detached affection; like a horse breeder examining a prize-winning race horse. "Well young man, what you should be feeling for yourself is pride."_

_Wesker nodded and responded in the affirmative. He never responded in the negative to Spencer unless that was what he wanted._

_"Well, Albert, you've just proven what a rigorous and upright training program we have for our children here at the Umbrella School."_

_Instantly, Albert Wesker felt his guts drop into his shoes._

_Spencer continued, even going so far as to get down on his knee to look the boy in the eye. "You should be proud, my boy, because you are part of a very special fraternity with myself at the head."_

_His emotions were spinning; Albert had never felt anything like this before. He had just proven himself a genius better than a whole herd full of snotty university scientist and now the old man was making this about him?_

_"The outside world has no discipline, Albert. Even now the fissures in the world threaten to widen and rip everything apart. Mankind is on a course for destruction, and only we hold the key to salvation."_

_Spencer chuckled and patted the boy on the shoulder. "Come and see me in my office at the free period. We will discuss a little reward for you setting a great example for the rest of us."_

_Then the old man walked away, his expensive leather shoes hardly making a noise on the marble floor._

_Young Albert just stood there after having felt the effects of Spencer's conditional, cynical love. Suddenly, the victory he'd gained just twenty minutes ago seemed like a failure._

_Worse, it wasn't just a failure. It was utterly pointless._

_Emotions in turmoil, Wesker just ran the conversation with Spencer in his head over and over again._

_In that moment, he understood that while Spencer congratulated him, on the inside he was really laughing at him._

_Wesker let go of the handle of his red wagon and looked over his science fair certificate. It was a lovely thing made from expensive paper and gorgeous ink patters on it. Almost as an afterthought, there was a tiny mark on the back. It read, "Property of Umbrella Inc."_

_It was then that Wesker learned a new emotion: hatred. Right then he wanted to be all grown up and have a talk with Spencer._

_He wanted to punch Spencer; hard. Wesker didn't care if he blinded him, killed him or just knocked teeth out. Wesker just wanted some blood on his hands._

_Reaching his arm high, Wesker took his first place prize and threw in the garbage can as hard as he could. Unfortunately, all this did was illustrate to Wesker just how weak his ten year old arms really were._

_It was an important moment for Wesker. First, it was the start of the process of growing up. Second, it was the moment in which he decided that, regardless of whoever held his leash at the moment; hate would be his one true master from then on._

_Umbrella Training Facility, Ten Years Later_

_Albert Wesker stood in black combat armour. Twenty years old and already he was a member of Umbrella's elite mercenary squad. For the last ten years he'd received a paramilitary training superior to that of the Special Forces programs of many nations. Wesker's military trainers had included men from the SAS as well as Israeli Special Forces._

_All that he needed to do to join the unit was to kill man; then his training would be complete._

_Spencer had come by to watch the show, like an old Roman Patrician. Accompanying him as a body guard was a relatively new mercenary soldier code named HUNK._

_Despite the fight taking place in a darkened dungeon, Wesker kept on a pair of sunglasses. He loved the way that these cosmetic devices hid his eyes from the world._

_The man he was due to kill was another mercenary. Both Wesker and the mercenary had their knives drawn._

_Spencer grinned. He was still a powerful presence, but time was taking its toll. He was force to walk with a cane now and he was frequently short of breath, but the old man was still as morally empty as always._

_"Kill him!" he shouted before bursting into a coughing fit. It didn't matter really who died here._

_The two combatants struck._

_There was the sound of a knife stuck into flesh. Spencer couldn't see who was dead and who wasn't because the fighters were standing so closely together._

_The victor became clear when the mercenary started gurgling and gushing blood everywhere._

_Wesker didn't even notice the blood that was splattering all over his face. He just twisted his wrist and opened up the windpipe of the man before kicking him to the ground. In five or seven seconds, the mercenary stopped moving._

_Wesker was now on the team. But Spencer really didn't realize what he created. All of the training and all of the education that he lavished on Wesker was just preparing his enemy._

_Wesker loved it because, with the sharpening of his skills, the day that he'd spill Spencer's blood would become closer._

_He then wiped the blood off his sunglasses._

_Volterra, Italy_

_Wesker sat on a park bench, reading a newspaper. It was two years after the Arklay Mountain Incident and all was well. He'd abandoned the sinking ship that was Umbrella, and now he was checking to see if the Volturi needed someone as dashing as him._

_Out of the busy streets came an Italian man in a business suit. The unknown man sat down next to Wesker._

_Wesker turned towards the man but before he could say anything, the other man cut him off. "If you speak to me, you will be killed unless I demand you to speak. At present there are six snipers in hidden areas with specialty ammunition to kill some freak like you."_

_Wesker said nothing. He kept his face neutral. It did make sense that is prospective employers would know something about his physical condition. That bitch Ada probably told the Volturi everything._

_The man continued in Italian. "The Volturi do not need you, you piece of shit. It is you who need them."_

_Wesker was starting to get a wee bit ticked off by this point. Chris never abused him like this._

_"If they decide not to kill you then you will start off as a lowly secretary, you puss dripping cock sucker."_

_Absent mindedly, Wesker checked his wrist watch. It was exactly noon._

_The rude Italian was right, Wesker did need the Volturi. For all intents and purposes, they ran the world with Hellsing as the only real opposition. And Hellsing needed the Volturi because they simply lacked the resources to police or destroy the entire vampire world. Alucard was only one vampire, however powerful._

_The Volturi had access to resources that, even under Umbrella, Wesker could only dream of. All he had to do was convince them that they were better off with him on the team._

_The rude Italian finished his speech. "You are a cunt and a maggot, and if you get on my balls I will gut you personally. Now let me show you to where you will be working."_

_Wesker nodded, saying nothing just in case those snipers could read lips._

_The Trevor Mansion, Arklay Mountains_

_**"The creature, designation: Wesker, Albert, is optimal,"** spoke the one in the middle in a deep, rumbling voice.**"He will be optimal to serve in our designs,"** rumbled the one on the left.**"The creature will serve the purpose of Reclamation."**_

_Wesker was running. Enhanced by the power of Birkin and his experimental virus, he could now run like a creature of the savannah. The thing was that he still had to make distance before the Trevor Mansion blew up and took everything inside with it._

_In all fairness, Wesker wasn't the least bit sorry for the destruction of the mansion. Its architecture possessed a ridiculous Alice in Wonderland-like quality and it was nothing short of Spencer's greed and inbreeding of mind which set his partner Marcus down the path of betrayal, unleashing the deadly T-Virus in the process._

_Wesker screeched to a halt and turned to see the mansion just before it blew to high hell. It was a lovely sight; he was almost tempted to start roasting marshmallows over the burning ruins._

_For years he had slaved under Spencer; now he could be his own man. The sky was his limit._

_This was arguably the most important moment in his life because it was the moment that he would be roped in to help with what they called Reclamation._

_Wesker heard it. With his enhanced hearing he should have heard it from three blocks away, but the three beings behind him were a mere stone's throw away._

_Wesker aimed the gun at these things but for the life of them he had no idea what they were. His best guess was that they were some kind of secret Umbrella super weapon that he'd never known about._

_They stood before Wesker, whoever they were. There were three. Each one towered at nearly nine feet and were impossibly broad._

_Outwardly they seemed mechanical; giant black robots with three blue eyes each. There were markings on the armour which were in some sort of language, but the greatest linguists would go mad trying to decipher it._

_The only thing which led Wesker to believe that they weren't robots was the fact that each of them was breathing. Gurgling was more the word; it sounded like they were inhaling and exhaling thick mud. On the back of each thing, there was a circulating tank of sludge like black muck._

_The two on the sides started to walk towards Wesker like legged tanks, their footfalls shaking the earth._

_Wesker fired his gun at the creatures but the bullets were utterly ineffective- the armour seemed to somehow absorb the projectiles._

_With a surprising burst of speed, the monster on the right lunged and grabbed Wesker by the head. Wesker struggled with all his might, but as far as mutants went, he was still in his infancy. He had yet to develop even the catlike pupils he would have in later years._

_The lead monster approached. A compartment melted open on its armour, revealing a biomechanical centipede like creature with a single blue eye on either end._

_The three monsters began to speak in unison, as if they shared a single mind._

_"We are the hands of God—_

_"We serve those in control—_

_"Those in control demand extinction—_

_"You will serve those in control or else you will be terminated."_

_Wesker didn't see the cyborg centipede, but he felt it fall onto his shoulder. Even worse, he felt when it crawled up his neck and started to burrow into his skull._

_He was lucky to be alive, less lucky in the fact that he was now a slave more totally than he'd ever been before._

_Present Day Volterra_

Wesker was unconscious in his chair, reliving the key moments of his life. The Druid and Dragosani stood over him.

"Our work is finished," said the necromancer.

"Yes," agreed the druid. He then paused. "Hey, I don't want to seem mean, but do you want to fuck with this guy?"

Dragosani looked at Wesker's unconscious form. "Alright, what do you have in mind?"

15 minutes later

When Wesker woke up from his nap, he had no more memory of the mysterious armoured beings that'd put a biomechanical worm inside his brain or their insidious schemes. He didn't even know that he didn't remember; perfect memory extraction.

He also had a beer bottle in his hand and a cigarette in his mouth for some reason. These things were out of the ordinary since he wasn't a drinker or smoker.

Spitting out the cigarette from his dry lips and throwing the beer bottle into the waste bin; Wesker got up and decided that the bottle and the smoke were Jane and Alec's fault. Those little monsters were always playing pranks when they weren't sadistically murdering humans and vampires with aplomb.

A cursory glance in the mirror showed Wesker wearing bright red lipstick. Grumbling, Wesker wiped the lipstick from his face with a towel.

Wesker was distracted by the buzzing of his cellular phone. The number calling him was Aro's personal cell phone. In a million years, Wesker wouldn't dream of ignoring that number. The text was demanding that Wesker report to meet with Aro.

Wesker sighed; Aro would read his mind today. No matter, Wesker had no interest in the vampire world. Let those undead maggots have their little sandbox empire; he would take the much richer and powerful kingdom of the day.

A few minutes later, Wesker was travelling down the hallway. At the entrance of the Volturi's private chamber he saw Caius.

Caius scowled at Wesker, much like he scowled at everyone. Caius had once been the type of human who believed that all of life's problems could be solved with swords and rage. Three and a half thousand years later, he believed that everything could be solved with bullets and rage.

Caius was a simple man, but thinking him stupid would lead to a slit throat or a broken neck.

Bowing for Caius much as he'd once bowed for Ozwell E. Spencer, Wesker passed and entered the private apartment of the Volturi.

The inside of this room had changed little in over three thousand years. Just about all the artwork here was bronze; the Volturi had once been bronze aged men and were disinclined to forget the era that made them.

It was almost like stepping back in time into the quarters of an Italian king from thousands of years ago. Everything in this room indicated great wealth; from the antique works of art, to ancient weapons to the constructs of gold.

A single piece of art here would be enough to buy a nuclear power plant. The Volturi had loads of such artefacts; stolen from across time and geography. Every piece of it was locked up in warehouses with better security than a nuclear missile silo.

Just to Wesker's side was a golden Aztec tablet, thought to be lost forever to the ignorance of the Catholic Church. Yet it was displayed as easily as a painting of crying Elvis.

Aro was in this room; Wesker could hear and smell him.

Getting down on one knee, Wesker announced his presence. "My lord Aro, you summoned me."

Aro's childlike voice came from behind some silk screens. "Ah, Wesker; I am so glad that you chose to come?"

The tone reminded Wesker uneasily of Spencer's false love. The man could afford to behave like a child because he held more power in his hand than Joseph Stalin ever did at his height.

With Renata to modify the emotional bonds of vampires, the Volturi could push the loyalty of their minions to ridiculous lengths. Renata herself was kept in line because Aro and Caius exploited her emotionally needy and weak willed.

Wesker did his best to play the part of the devoted minion. "My lord, how may I serve you?"

Wesker could hear the rustle of fabric behind the silk curtain. "Well, my friend, as you know; I must insist on checking the state of your loyalty."

Wesker said nothing but wondered what that rustling of fabric was.

"It is nothing personal, my handsome friend. It is something required of all members. Surely you understand the importance of knowing ones friends better than even your enemies?"

Wesker could sympathize with that. He didn't even think that there was anything strange about Aro calling him "handsome."

"So, if you understand correctly, I am going to have to touch you."

Aro stepped out from behind the screen.

Nothing in God's green earth could have prepared Wesker for what he saw before him. He was so shocked by it that his sunglasses fell off his face and his jaw hit the floor.

There was Aro, with translucent hide like the onion skin and black hair that seemed to float; was standing in front of Albert Wesker with this _outfit. _

Aro was wearing a black cowboy hat on top of his head. He was totally without a shirt of any kind so Wesker got a good look at his nipples like off pink marble chips. He was actually quite sculpted despite his fragile skin.

On his lower body he wore an ultra tight red Speedo which had his crotch bulging like nothing in the male anatomy had a right to. To seal the deal Aro was wearing black leather chaps which did not cover his butt or crotch in any way.

For once in his whole life, Albert Wesker was totally blown away—and not in a good way.

Aro giggled a bit. "So, big boy, I'm going to touch you. And with my permission, you are free to touch me."

Idly, Wesker wondered if suicide really was painless.

To make things worse, Aro tried to adopt a cowboy accent. "So, pa'dna, are you gonna touch me?" A cute little pirouette showed Wesker a good glimpse of Aro's ass, which half hung out of that ultra tight Speedo.

_Hellsing Headquarters, London, Leon's quarters_

Leon Scott Kennedy was sleeping when his cell phone woke him. Waking up with a snort, Leon grudgingly looked at his phone when the caller kept on calling.

Groaning, Leon grabbed the phone without looking at the caller ID. "'llo?" he asked sleepily.

"Leon, it's Zohall. Man, there's been a fucking disturbance in the force."

If Zohall didn't sound so panicked, Leon would hang up. "Kid, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"Man, I tell ya, there's been a bona fide disturbance in the force. I saw it in the tarot cards!"

Leon groaned and rolled on his uncomfortable mattress. "Kid, fuck you and fuck your tarot cards."

Zohall was offended. "Hey man, don't diss the cards. They're more accurate than Integra's shitty intelligence reports."

Leon didn't have the patience to argue this late at night. Working as a vampire hunter, sleep was not something that he got a whole lot of. "Look Zohall, I really don't give a shit. I'll see you later."

But Zohall was very whiney. "Come on, Leon! My cards are more accurate than that freaky Cullen girl. Right now dude, someone very evil from our past got fucked. I think it was Wesker but I think the cards mean "fucked" as a metaphorical thing."

On the other end, Leon could hear Alice Cullen bursting in to chew Zohall's ear off. "Hey asshole, don't talk bad about my gift or I'll set Jasper on you!"

Leon had enough if it at that point. They could all go to hell. Leon hung up and went back to sleep.

Then his alarm clock went off. "CRAP!" he yelled.

_Back in Volterra, a few hours later_

Aro signed and held the cowboy hat over his now nude genitals. His initial assessment of Wesker had been correct. Wesker was a dangerous man; a criminal genius who led a life of hard core crime.

He was just like the song secret agent man. He was an international man of mystery; forever a stranger. Plus Aro was turned on by Wesker's powerful foot fetish. His greatest sexual fantasy was to take Rebecca Chambers, locally anesthetise her and amputate one of her feet while she was still awake.

Indeed, Wesker was a brilliant scientist and polymath; however the Volturi had a few other of those as their job applicants.

Caius had chosen Wesker for his paramilitary training and ruthlessness. Aro had finally chosen on Wesker because the man was _beast_. His lovemaking to Wesker has been the most passionate in a good eight hundred years

Gazing at Wesker through heavy lidded eyes, he purred. "Was that good for you?"

Wesker's voice was even. "Yes. It was lovely." He kept a straight face. "Now if you will excuse me, I have to go up onto the roof and scream now."

Jane and Alec were walking down the hall. "I just don't understand why women like men," Jane said.

Alec nodded. "I know; I have no idea why boys would like girls either." He made a face and a "yuck" noise.

Jane's dim opinion of men's sexiness was reinforced when Albert Wesker burst down the hall, buck naked and fleeing like something was chasing him.

Jane got a good view of Wesker's junk and of his blond pubic hair as he barrelled right past her.

The speed with which he moved was so great that Jane went spinning like a top. Then she started to wail. "Alec, my eyes are hurting!"

Ever the good brother, Alec covered his sister's eyes as Wesker's naked muscled ass receded into photographic memory.

Wesker only stopped when he reached a cleaning closet. Ripping down the door, Wesker took a bottle of bleach and started to pour it all over his head. Wesker savoured the caustic pain on his skin as it cleaned him.

From across the hall, Heidi gave Wesker a wolf whistle that he was too traumatized to pay attention to.

Down in the streets, a kindly grandmother was taking her grandson for a walk. The happy young lad held onto a lollypop and bounced up and down like the young ones do. He greatly enjoyed visiting with his grandmother.

When the little boy heard that ear splitting, bone chilling scream coming from the top of the castle; he immediately ran towards his grandmother like lightning and buried his face in her leg, as if she could protect him from the screamer.

Instantly, the grandmother went down and hugged her grandchild tight to her. Just off the top of the castle's highest tower she could see a man screaming, just barely.

The man must have lungs of steel to have his shout heard so clearly.

Though her eyesight wasn't what it used to be, the grandmother sincerely hoped that he was wearing clothing and what she was seeing was just due to old age.

_Volterra, The next day_

Wesker was hard at work. Despite yesterday's fiasco, everything had gone off without a hitch. Aro and his inbred brothers were now convinced if not of his loyalty then of his reliability. The door was open and the road was paved for the work to go ahead.

At present, Wesker was studying tissue and venom samples extracted from newborn Unstet. Unstet venom was a most difficult substance to study. It dissolved just about any materiel intended to contain it and it came in highly limited amounts in the body of an Unstet compared with blood in a human's body.

Presently, Wesker's sample of venom was held in a test tube and insulated from the laboratory glass by a hydro-lipid mechanical mixture was extraordinarily hard to maintain.

His findings were most interesting. Conventional wisdom held that newborns were so prodigiously strong because their bodies were saturated with blood from their human stages. But that extra blood only lasted for a few weeks, not nearly long enough to account for the full year of enhanced strength and increased aggression.

Based on what Wesker was seeing, the venom of newborns was saturated with large amounts of vitamin D, which played a vital role in human immune system function and bone and teeth maintenance.

Fascinating, vitamin D might also be the secret to Alucard's power if there was a general link proven between vampire strength and vitamin D levels in the blood. Alucard may have such power over the souls he has due to the amount of vitamin D he can absorb.

Or it might be nothing at all and vitamin D might be nothing at all in the Unstet newborn venom.

Science didn't prove anything, it only disproved things.

And right now, science could not disprove that Aro had not just entered the laboratory and was now standing over Wesker's shoulder.

Stiffening, Wesker slowly turned around and faced the ancient vampire. The two men faced each other and the tension in the air was thick enough to slice.

It was Aro who broke the silence. "Good day, Albert." Not Wesker. Albert.

Wesker said nothing; instead, he simply took off his sunglasses. With his catlike eyes, he glared at Aro, no longer bothering to hide his contempt.

For a moment, Aro was cowed; or at least no longer fully certain of the outcome.

Wesker inhaled a bit more deeply than he meant to. "What do you want?" His customary greeting of "my lord" was absent.

Aro pulled out more of his customary confidence. "I wanted to know how you were feeling. I did not wish for our relationship to be soured or awkward."

Wesker's eyes widened. "A relationship? Did you say that we have a relationship?" the incredulity in Wesker's voice was plain for all but the dumbest to see.

Aro pretended not to understand what Wesker meant. "Of course, you are one of our most valuable assets. I don't know what I would do if we lost you."

Wesker folded his sunglasses and put his glasses sin his pocket. "Let me tell you something about myself. I do not have relationships; not with women, not with me, not with _you._"

Aro didn't let the hurt flash across his eyes.

Wesker continued. "I work for you. That does not mean that you and I share any sort of emotional bond."

Wesker closed the gap between himself and Aro, fully exploiting his superior height. Standing so close to the vampire, Wesker felt an uncanny sense of awe. That sense of awe and respect however was nowhere near as strong as the burning hate and contempt. "If you can actually read my mind and are not just pretending, you would know that I have no friends, lovers or anything of the sort."

"I have allies that at any given moment may stab me in the back and leave me to die."

His voice was slowly getting louder and his small hand gestures were becoming more animate. "When I walk into a room, I always keep one hand close to my gun because I know that everyone in the room has valid cause to shoot me first."

Wesker sighed and put his sunglasses back on. "The worst part about last night was that I enjoyed it when you put your feet in my mouth."

Aro's lips turned up slightly. "You liked that?" He knew it because he'd seen it in Wesker's mind, but it was so good to hear it from the man's mouth.

Wesker nodded. "Yes, and thank you for stealing the last bit of my dignity; making me enjoy my own rape." His lips twisted into an intense snarl.

Aro protested. "I did not rape you."

Wesker laughed bitterly. "Oh, is that so? What choice did I have? If I had said no, would you or would you not have had your goons hold me down or kill me?"

Wisely, Aro kept his mouth shut.

Wesker let his shoulders down and turned back to his scientific work. "I have important assignment to finish and only a finite amount of time. Good day, my lord."

Aro had everything. Wealth, power, _life and death_; everything belonged to him. In that one moment, he wanted nothing more than Wesker's love; the one thing no force on earth could have given him.

Noiselessly, Aro exited the science lab.

Wesker was now alone and the memories came back to him. The fact that the plan did work did in no way help Wesker cope with the terrible pain that was inside of him.

The humiliation was eating him alive; it felt like he was once more back under Spencer's leash.

His whole life Albert Wesker had been running. He'd run from Spencer, he was running with the Volturi and now he was running for _them_.

In a moment, Wesker's mind was taken off the emotional hurt when he felt a buzzing inside of his brain. That buzzing could only be caused by the biomechanical monster which lived there.

Silently, Wesker communicated to his masters through the medium of thought. "_Can you hear me, my friends? It's your good companion, Albert._"

"_We have crossed a major hurdle and you should all be very happy. In no time at all you will get your reclamation_."

Internally he sniggered. "_Destroying the world will be truly cathartic._"

And if there was one thing which the Hands of God did not know, was that the druid and the necromancer had created a small space in his memory which the brain worm could not touch. Finally, after years of having a spy inside of his mind, Wesker would have just enough wiggle room to break the Hands of God.

Hell yeah.

* * *

And that finishes up this exciting chapter :D I hope that everyone enjoyed reading this and it wasn't to heady or silly. Yup, you read correctly; Wesker got raeped. Where else but in these stories of mine would you find something like that?

While I'm at it, let me a do a little promoting. If you love Hellsing and Deathnote, then you'll love Shallowswan's _The Flower of War. _Or if you like a lighter story, then Lion in the Land's _Charity Burbage and the New Prince_ is right for you ;)

Thanks for sticking with me everybody. I owe it to my wonderful readers. Next chapter returns to Forks where the Quileutes and Cullens prepare for battle. And the Quileutes will be joined by the merchant from RE4. "Whaddya buying?"

Stay healthy people.

Ta

Master of teh Boot


	34. Training Day

The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair

Chapter Thirty-Four: Training Day

Disclaimer: I do now own Hellsing, Twilight or the Merchant or Zohall Mercer. They are owned by their respective owners, Stephanie Meyer, Hideo Kojima and EZB. Enjoy, my friends. The starting scene is heavily inspired by _Metal Gear 3_. And I find it really freaky that Seras mom in the anime looks exactly like I imagined Esme to look

* * *

Bella and Rosalie were standing under the dark canopy of the temperate rainforest in Forks, Washington. The two girls were on the edge of the meadow where Bell and Edward spent a lot of their intimate time.

Currently though, the meadow was going to serve as training grounds for the combined forces of the Cullens, the wolf pack and the two Hellsing agents; Seras Victoria and Zohall Mercer.

The Cullen clan had arrived and now all that was needed was for the wolves and the Hellsing crew to show up. As the various members killed time until the big moment when they'd be trained to kill newborns.

Esme, normally the most placid and peaceful of the group was ready to kill. Since Alucard had violated Jasper's virtue, she'd gone a significant change. Rather than a wealthy, trendy housewife, she was dressed a great deal like Solid Snake but the wrong color. Esme was wearing a colourful spandex workout getup that looked very much like the fictional soldier's sneaking sit. Esme even had a brightly coloured bandanna tied to keep her hair out of her eyes during the fight. She'd even brought a .45 calibre SOCOM pistol with her.

Carlisle was dressed in his hospital wear but his clothes looked worn and had barely cleaned bloodstains on them. Perhaps the daddy vamp was trying to channel the Medic from _Team Fortress 2_.

The three Cullen sons were being idiots and simply had shown up in their usual clothes but had taken off their shirts in a bid to out flex each other. The lads never ceased to try and prove their manhood to one another. If it wasn't for their hot wives the whole thing would look incredibly gay.

Alice was off in her own little world, wearing a brightly coloured sundress while Rosalie and Bella were hanging out together in the shade.

Over the last little while, a grudging respect had been slowly built between the two girls. It was precarious and shaky but it was still there.

Bella had dressed for functionality; wearing her usual drab color scheme in sweat clothes.

Rose had gone dolled up like millionaires from the nineteen forties. How she expected to practice fighting in that outfit was beyond Bella's powers of reason. A huge sunhat and sunglasses completed the ensemble.

At the moment, Bell and Rose were staring at some glowing mushrooms growing on a log. Rosalie was pretending not to be fascinated by the glowing fungus.

"Rose," asked Bella. "Do you know what kind of mushrooms those are?"

In her typical aloof fashion, Rose observed the fungi. "Those appear to be Russian Glow caps; but those normally grow in caves. These must have been brought over from overseas."

Bella stared intently at the faintly glowing mushrooms. Even on the edge of the meadow, the temperate forest of Forks was dark and the heavy cloud cover did not help. This however seemed fine by the mushrooms, which continued to make as fungi do.

"Why are they glowing?" Bella enquired. The fungi had her utterly enraptured; their glow reminded her of Edward's eyes and she was helpless.

Rose informed Bella in a matter of fact tone. "It's bioluminescent, much like a firefly; it relies on the luciferin-luciferease chemical reaction."

Bella stared at the mushroom as if they were the most interesting thing in the universe; while Rose continued the science lecture.

"The luciferin reacts with luciferease in the presence of magnesium plus-two ions, breaking it down into oxyluciferein and CO2." She crossed her arms with great pride at her vast scientific knowledge. Edward's thing was medicine. Jasper majored in History and Emmett dicked around and got into college because of Daddy's money but her field of expertise was the natural world and all the lovely things in it. "The carbonyl groups in the oxyluciferin start out electrically charged and then they glow as they return to their original state."

She looked down at Bella with snooty contempt; it was better than the loathing she'd looked at Bella with earlier. "Did you understand that?"

Bella nodded, broken out of her mushroom trance. "Yeah, it's just like high school chemistry." Kneeling over the mushrooms, Bella looked like a wet mouse next to Rose's proud peacock.

Suddenly, Bella's large brown eyes were filled with comprehension and an idea came to her dull mind. "Hey, Rosalie, can I ask you something?"

Rosalie raised a bond eyebrow. "Yes?"

"If these mushrooms are giving off energy, will eating them recharge my batteries?"

The nature of the question took Rosalie off guard. She'd never before heard a human speak of their "batteries" of such a way. "Didn't you get anything to eat at the house?"

Bella looked slightly embarrassed. "Well, Esme's food was good; but will these mushrooms recharge my batteries?"

Rosalie took off her sunglasses and showed her beautiful golden eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"You know," Bella said. "Will they recharge my batteries?"

"Your batteries?" said Rose; for the first time in her second life she was feeling that perhaps her hearing might be going bad.

"Will they recharge my batteries?"

Rose attempted to explain to Bella. "Well, your human body doesn't have "batteries" per se. Your body is fuelled by the polysaccharide glycogen and—

"Will they recharge my batteries?" Bella didn't seem to care what Rosalie's reply was. She only wanted to know if her batteries would be recharged.

"Look, are you going listen to what—

"Will they recharge my batteries?"

Rose looked at Bella for a long time. It occurred to her that there was still a lot she didn't know about Bella. She assumed that the human girl was merely a selfish child who was going to condemn herself to darkness. Now it looked more like turning Bella into a vampire would be tantamount to giving an escaped mental patient the key to immortality. Bella didn't matter but making her a vampire would most likely be damaging for the world.

"You know what," said Rosalie. "Just do what makes you happy."

"Yay!" shouted Bella before she fell on the mushrooms like a starving person.

Rosalie slowly walked away as she heard Bella go "om-nom-nom-nom" on the mushrooms.

"They're here!" a voice cried out. Rose identified it as the booming foghorn voice of her husband.

"Finally," Rose huffed, grabbing the possibly insane human as he tried to choke down the last glowing mushroom in an attempt to charge the batteries.

In the clearing, all the Cullens were gathered. Every one of them had dark expressions on their faces except for Carlisle. They all hated the wolf pack and while they might keep their mouths shut, the contempt still ran deep.

The wolves came out of the deep forest like ice age predators. Even without supernatural strength and durability, each one of the giant canines silently padding out of the greenery looked easily powerful enough to take down a mammoth by itself.

There were seven of the wolves, seemingly one for each member of the Cullen clan; a perfect balance for an uneasy system of mutually assured destruction. Since the arrival of the creature Alucard, more young members of the Quileute clan had been making the transformation into wolves.

Behind Edward, Bella gazed in awe at the seven giant beasts which were actually people. One of the wolves, a beautiful chocolate coloured specimen actually winked at her and gave her a wolfish grin. Smiling and shedding some of her anxiety, Bella smiled coquettishly and waved at Jacob. Inwardly, Edward was pissed off that Bella was still friends with Jake but said nothing.

Carlisle, who in his spare time studied palaeontology, took note of the wolves' appearance with great curiosity. They were wolves but slightly more. There was a primitive look to them evocative of the bear-dog ancestors who gave raise to both bears and wolves. Perhaps these Quileutes were not merely wolves but a throwback to an age when prey was larger and far deadlier; their heavy builds gave them greater proportionate speed than a bear and superior proportionate strength to a wolf.

The wolves got closer and Carlisle got a good look at their paws. The back paws were like dog's feet, good for getting traction. The front paws were like those of a bear; cruel, curved talons ideal for disembowelling prey.

Having shown themselves, the pack moved to get dressed. Turning into a horse sized wolf with a nearly four foot jaw length was not any kind of activity that was kind to clothes; which is why the members of the pack always carried a small pack of clothes tied to each of their legs. It kind of killed the whole "huge, ferocious beast" look but it was practical for those that were not inclined to the nudist way.

Seven well-built Native Americans stepped from the cover of the woods and glared at the Cullens with the same unquestioning hate that was being directed at them. Only young Seth was avoiding the hate because hate is so not cool. His older sister Leah however was utterly livid. The seven sparklers had taken away her lover and her sense of normalcy; vengeance was just taking a rain check. And she was hungry for tacos.

Fast on the heels of the wolves came the duo from Hellsing, Zohall Mercer of Racoon City and Seras Victoria; soldiers of Protestant Knights of Hellsing.

The blonde swords man rode in on Seras Victoria's back, piggyback style. His long trench coat billowed dramatically in the humid, cool air of the early morning. A _Vash the Stampede_ shirt, faded and threadbare proudly decorated his lean, muscular chest.

Leaping off Seras back, Zohall drew his long sword, Gleam from his back sheath. Swinging the long, straight blade around as only a master swordsman can, the lad's steel bringer of death was a blur.

As he switched the sword from right to left hand, the young man grabbed his coat and pulled it off. In a display of extreme dexterity with a blade, Zohall took off his coat and shirt while swing a sword around wildly while not cutting his clothes one bit.

At last, his little display of ADHD halted. Zohall stood posed before all, grinning heroically and flexing his lean, hard muscle; his coat and shirt were on top of the sword which had been driven into the ground.

By taking off his shirt, Zohall had hoped to blend in with the shirtless werewolves and vampires. All he did was prove just how wimpy looking a human looked next to these Quileutes and Cullens; even one as physically fit as Zohall.

Alice had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing. Zohall was too busy hoping that somewhere, epic music was playing while he pulled his little stunt.

His bubble was burst when Embry put a big hand on his head as if he were an overconfident child. "Keep trying, little white man; someday it'll happen." He walked away laughing.

Zohall's hands went to his spiky hair. "Fuck off man; you're messing with the hairdo."

As Zohall attempted to get his meticulously gelled hair all correct, a figure on a quad bike rode in.

"Who the hell is that guy?" boomed Emmett, pointing a figure at the shady figure dressed up in an overcoat and balaclava.

"Don't worry about him," Zohall reassured. "He's legit. Tell him, Embry."

Embry, the outlaw member of the wolf pack was the one on closest terms with the mysterious man. "Oh yeah man; he's totally cool. He's been living on the rez for about a year now. Guy sells me pretty much everything I need. He's from Spain so he totally knows about vampires and shit like that."

Edward was reading the minds of those around him. The Merchant's mind was full of figures, dollar sums and a host of merchandise which couldn't have possibly fit under that coat of his. Images of the Spanish countryside, a castle and red eyed demons attacking a man who fit Zohall Mercer's description of Leon Kennedy came up.

Rosalie meanwhile was thinking of killing the Merchant because he might expose their secret. Well, at the rate things were going who didn't know the Cullens secret? A vampire hunting organization from England knew about it, their forger Jenkins and unknowingly so did a band of Nazi vampires in South America.

Jasper was also thinking of killing the Merchant and Emmett was just thinking of boobs. As far as Emmett was concerned before he started thinking of the hot sex he was going to have with his wife, nobody could be more trustworthy than a creepy guy in a worn coat who sold random shit on an economically rundown Indian Reserve; especially trustworthy because he hid his face.

As the Merchant walked over to Alice, Bella took the time to huge Edward; an action he greatly appreciated despite how much worse it made the burn in his throat. What he didn't appreciate was when Bella said. "Edward, I ate some glowing mushrooms and they recharged my batteries."

Haphazardly, Edward plastered a smile onto his face; taken aback by how cheerful Bella was being. "That's—great, I think."

He then whispered to Rosalie. "Rose, you were supposed to watch out for her!"

Rose whispered back. "Jesus Christ, Edward. Give the girl some independence; every girl her age eats glowing mushrooms these days. I even wish I had some glowing mushrooms when I was human."

The Merchant loomed over cheerful, sunny Alice like the grim spectre of death. His South London accent attested to the fact that he was not from Spain originally. "Got something that might interest ya," he chuckled.

Alice just turned up her nose as the Merchant reached into his pocket. "Nope."

The Merchant looked stunned. She hadn't even seen what he was going to sell. "How about—

"Nope," said Alice as he continued to turn his nose up at the mysterious man.

"Well I got some—

"No," Alice wasn't budging.

Dejected, the Merchant walked over to Embry and quickly sold the young Native American man a pack of smokes and a lighter.

"Alright," trumpeted Zohall. "Enough of this horseshit; we've got serious work to do!"

They divided into two groups based on species, with Bella hanging by the vampire side but also getting awfully close to Jacob. Seras and Zohall stood before the two groups and the Merchant walked off to make a phone call to somebody named Clive.

"Whores are for heroes," said Zohall with both arms raised like a biblical prophet. His statement was almost universally met with blank stares except for Edward who was reading the lad's mind. Seras stood by Zohall like his first mate.

"What I mean by that," he explained, "is that if any of us survive the upcoming battle I'll personally buy the survivors twenty whores a piece." This caused a number of members in the two groups to suddenly take greater interest in what Zohall was saying.

Nobody was more excited by this statement than little Alice Cullen, four feet of fireball. She was jumping up and down and kicking out her legs. Eventually she settled down and started to shake her fists with glee. "Did you hear that Jasper?" she smiled brightly at her husband. "Whores. Whores! Whoopee!"

Edward saw Jasper's mind. Outwardly he was smiling and hugging his wife but on the inside he was miserable; the thought of Alice actually wanting whores utterly crushed his masculinity. It was going to take serious makeup sex to actually convince him that he still had a pair.

"I don't want any whores, I have Edward." Bella said and grabbed her fiancée's arm.

Seras had something to say to that. "That's true, young lady; but you're young still. You've got to go out and get wild for a bit; otherwise you'll spend the rest of your life regretting not sleeping with a lot of men."

Now _every_ set of eyes widened when Seras started to unbutton her shirt. Pulling apart the blue fabric, she showed off her gigantic assets. Scrawled neatly across her breast were four runes of power. "When I was a girl I always wanted a tattoo but I kept putting it off and I had to die and become a vampire."

Zohall zoomed in and put his face right next to Seras semi-exposed breasts. "But it's never too late to get crazy." He pointed a rough finger at the tattoos of black ink. "I did the ink work. I studied run lore a while back and these guys are the shit. When Seras vamps out, the runes glow and shit and she becomes like a Mondo vampire. Now she's a match for any newborn Unstet; hell, she even took on Paladin Anderson and walked away."

Seras began to button up her shirt again and Zohall began the lecture in earnest. "Okay, Unstet; they sparkling in sunlight and are easy on the eyes. Now in my experience, besides an adult Master class Nosferatu there's not a thing meaner or deadlier than a newborn Unstet."

As he told his story, Zohall punctuated his speech with sweeping hand gestures and animated movements. "A couple of months ago a newborn swept through London. It caused thousands of dollars of damage and killed about a hundred and fifty people before we took it down. The maker of that newborn is currently taking up the ass courtesy of the Volturi but that's beside the point."

Zohall smiled and grabbed the gun at his waist. "We're in the middle of the woods! We can destroy as much stuff as we want and there'll be nobody to say we did it."

Emmett boomed in agreement but by far nobody else had much to say.

"That said," Zohall concluded, "let's try not to mess up too many trees. Trees are awesome and deserve respect; the giving tree really got the shit end of the stick."

Everyone nodded in agreement as the hyperactive Hellsing soldier went on. "Moving onto item number one, I'd like to lay down the ground rules. Seras, take it."

Seras nodded and put her hands on her hips. "Since we've been here I've noticed the hostility between the two groups. It's all "mutt" this and "leech" that." She raised her hand and slammed a fist into her palm. "Well no more of that!"

"That's right dudes," Zohall cut in. "No more racism or bad blood. We're a fighting unit now. There's no going back."

This elicited looks of disgust and groans from nearly everybody there.

"You're all going to take time to learn everyone's names and by God you'll use them. Otherwise you will answer to me."

Sam Uley, pack leader, was none too pleased with the order to fraternize with the blood suckers. His pack mate Paul mouthed off to Seras. "Who died and made you the fucking queen of the damned?"

Seras leaned forward and bared her fangs at Paul. "Don't you fuck with me, sunshine! I'm the best hope you've got."

Before tensions could climb any further, Jasper sent out a calming wave and the red left Seras eyes.

Zohall turned to Jasper. "Thanks surfer dude."

"Don't mention it," Jasper drawled, still dealing with his crippled masculinity.

Seras took the spotlight. "But honestly thought, while myself and Mr. Mercer are in charge there will be no racial slurs, sexist terms or bad words. You are allowed to say 'fuck, shit, arse and cunt," Seras explained. "Because I think that every human being out there ought to be allowed to say the word 'cunt." This caused a chuckle to spread through the group

Seras raised a hand, indicating for everyone to pay attention. The thick cloud cover of Forks was allowing her to go out in daylight without experiencing too much pain. "As you well know, Mr. Jasper here fought in the wars in South America." She was unaware of what to call the Southern United States.

"From what I've heard, you killed over a thousand vampires by yourself; is that correct?" Seras inquired.

Jasper looked at Seras. "That's correct." He was not proud of what he'd done. Maria had taught him how to be cruel, but Alice had taught him how to be kind.

"That's good," Seras laughed. "Because at the Hellsing Royal Order of Protestant Knights we kill a thousand vampires every day before going out for a pint."

Seras just barely caught a whiff of jealousy and annoyance coming off of Jasper. As if he was pissed off that a mere woman would boast so about body counts and fatalities. Little did Jasper realize that Seras was far from ordinary and she was just as tough as him if not more so.

Seras looked at Jasper's scars. They were impressive, but as a Nosferatu those scars only increased her desire to fight. She didn't see a threat, deep in her vampire brain with its rotted frontal lobes. She saw a competitor. And unlike Jasper who'd been lead around by the nose by a sadistic Mexican woman for decades, Seras followed orders but ultimately followed the dictates of her heart. She bowed before no man; Alucard only controlled her through the greatest effort.

Seras strolled around slightly, feeling the comfort of the football shoes that she'd bought at Newton's Sporting goods store with a recommendation from Bella. The sight of the buxom British babe had nearly given Mike Newton a nosebleed.

"Now as you all know, I was a member of the D-11 elite police unit and I was the youngest member to make the cut in years." Seras gestured to her partner in crime. "Zohall over here was a mercenary before travelling with Japanese warrior monks in Asia."

"The pay was shit," Zohall explained. "But those Japanese bastards could kill a whole swarm of zombies with just a sword and a bowl of noodles."

Emmett wasn't listening to Seras speech. He was too busy staring at her chest. His mate Rosalie was taking the pompous-o-meter and turning the dial to red alert.

Seras continued. "In addition to being elite police, I was also on the D-11 football team."

"You mean soccer," Emmett corrected.

Seras' eye twitched momentarily. "No, I was playing football."

"Yeah right," Emmett laughed. "Soccer is a pussy sport. Football is for real men." He flexed dramatically, which caused his brothers to flex in order to avoid being left out.

Seras had to choke down bile in her throat. "Moving on," she ground out. "I was on the football team and one of the first things I learned was how to equalize. I was weaker than many of the men on the team so I learned some techniques that allowed me to gain a competitive advantage against some of those geezers."

"After all," Seras elaborated. "The bible says that woman is the source of all evil; so if anybody is going to play dirty it might as well be us girls." This statement caused an uncomfortable shift in most of the guy's moods and a look of admiration from the female of the species in the crowd. Even Leah was looking at Seras with a bit less animosity while Bella was wowed by Seras's wisdom and funny accent.

Zohall took the spotlight again. Bella vaguely wondered if Zohall was cold with no shirt on because she was freezing in Edward's gentle yet cold embrace.

"These moves here aren't a god-mod or anything like that so don't get cocky." The lad's forest green eyes scanned the group in search of something. "What we're going to need is a volunteer to help my little lady friend here demonstrate some of the moves."

Seras pointed at Emmett. "How about you, big fellow? Care to test your luck?" Seras smiled and gave Emmett a predatory smile.

In typical enthusiastic fashion, Emmett pumped a fist and smiled, showing off his nice dimples. "Fuck yeah, bring it on baby. We saved your asses in W-W-two and we'll do it again. USA, baby!"

This caused Seras's eye to twitch again, but she restrained her emotions with a British stiff upper lip. It was far more useful for controlling her destructive Nosferatu urges than any American-action-hero gung ho attitude. Discipline was a hallmark of British tradition and Seras proudly took part in that tradition.

Despite his "simple" outlook on life, Seras found Emmett to be loud, stupid and obnoxious. Basically, he was everything about America that ought to be flushed down the toilet; that aggravating kind of Superbowl Sunday patriotism.

Zohall just shrugged his shoulders and looked down at Emmett. "Your funeral dude."

At this time, Edward began to chuckle to himself as he saw in Zohall land Seras's minds exactly what lay in store for Emmett. When his fiancée asked what was so funny, Edward just said. "You'll see in a minute, darling." He kissed her lightly on the top of the head before continuing.

Seras and Emmett stood about thirty feet apart from each other. Emmett was squatting down in an athlete's ready position while Seras leaned casually on one leg. In no way was there anything threatening about Seras posture.

With a fatalistic air, Zohall instructed Emmett on how to proceed. "Just go at her, dude."

"Oh yeah?" said Emmett.

"You betcha, man." Zohall replied. "Just go nice and easy at her and make sure that everybody else can see you do it."

Emmett grinned, eager for battle. "Let's do it!" Little did he realize that the fledgling of Alucard wasn't going to go so easy on his big ass.

So he went easy on Seras. His speed was a mere two hundred miles an hour. He zoomed at Seras but to his highly sophisticated and coordinated Unstet brain he was going slowly. Seras didn't even make her move until the last minute.

Snapping into fighting position without even a shift of her hips to warn Emmett, Seras raised her foot and slammed the heel as hard as she could right onto the weakest part of Emmett's foot.

Emmett yelled in pain as he felt stone hard bones and flesh break under Seras foot. He bounced off of Seras hand as she blocked momentum from carrying him away.

Bouncing back up, Emmett looked at Seras with fury. Her coy expression only made the pain in his foot seem great. "You fucking bitch!" he yelled and raised his fist as if to strike Seras; she didn't even flinch.

"Emmett McCarty Cullen!" came the shrieking admonition of Esme. "What do you think you are doing? I know I raised you better than this!"

Emmett halted at his mother's outrage. Both his mothers, human and vampire, had both taught him that it was never right to hit a girl; it was ingrained into his Tennessee DNA. However, he'd never met a girl like Seras before. The Police Girl just smiled and waved at him.

He shook out his foot. The damage was painful, she'd struck the vital nerves; but the damage was neither sever nor hard to repair. In thirty seconds the fractured bone and flesh healed.

"That was move number one," Zohall lectured. "The toe stomp throws 'em for a loop, but it's not a magic bullet. Give 'em the stomp and then follow it with an instant kill."

Emmett snapped out of his reverie when Seras called to him. "Oh Emmett, you ready for more?"

Emmett's face screwed up in determination. "You fucking bet I am," he bellowed.

He charged at Seras, this time at full speed. Unfortunately all he got for his efforts was the palm of Seras hand slamming right into his nose. The jarring impact combined with the shards of bone lodged in his brain caused him to fall to the ground.

Instantly, Emmett was up and trying to reshape his formerly cute nose, which now looked like a squashed fruit or berry.

"That one is the take-the-beak move," Zohall narrated. "It only stops 'em for a split second; I've seen Unstet fighting with their brains all but scooped out like a tasty ice-cream flavour. But a split second is enough for the kill."

Emmett looked at Seras, no longer confident that this was going to be a cakewalk and no longer confident in his own superior strength. However, he was not willing to look like a coward in front of his brothers.

Before he could charge at Seras, she charged at him. She ran at him in just such a way that he fell flat on his face; it was the perfect soccer trip.

Shocked but unharmed, Emmett got up only for Seras to push him onto his back.

"Now for move number five," said Zohall.

Emmett sat up, confused. "Wait, what happened to number four?"

His question was answered when Seras stomped on his testicles as hard as she could. It sounded like somebody crushing gravel. Emmett folded on himself and moaned in pain.

Edward and Jasper smiled and chuckled at their brother's discomfort. "I guess there is such a thing as a stupid question," Edward joked to his southern brother. In response, Jasper laughed and gave Edward a knuckle tap.

Groaning, Emmett stood up and faced Seras. Naked fear was on his face now. Before he knew what was happening, Seras has sprinted behind him and was grabbing him under the arms, twisting his armpit hairs. Emmett yelped in pain as Seras twisted the hairs in his hidden place.

Zohall smiled a bit at this move. "At Hellsing, we don't just rip off a vampire's head and burn the whole thing to ashes; we go in and pull his armpit hairs first just to mess with him." He turned around just as Seras let go of her squealing target.

Emmett stared at Seras wide eyed, his hands were tucked into his pits and his lower lip quivered with terror. In front of him, Seras grinned and motioned with her finger for him to come closer. "Come here, boy; mamma wants to talk to you," her British accent had never sounded creepier.

"I think Emmett has had enough," Carlisle suggested. Both he and Esme were staggered at how much pain their boy was in, but it was nothing compared to how Rose was looking and feeling. At present, Rosalie stared at her man with helpless horror. There wasn't a trace of pride or ego anywhere in her posture; only an overwhelming pain as the man she loved was being made into an English girl's bitch.

"Yeah," Emmett begged. "Make one of the Indians go for it."

"Indians?" Zohall shouted with outrage. "Dude, do you see any red dots here? Just for that, you're going to go right back at it."

Emmett turned to his brothers and then to Rosalie. Rosalie screamed to him. "Just run Emmett, I'll take it for you." This immediately filled Emmett with anger. Nobody, not even some crazy English bitch with huge tits was going to harm hi Rosalie.

His brothers meanwhile egged him on. "Come on Emmett," Jasper implored. "You're the man."

"Yeah, you're a trooper." Edward was struggling not to bust a gut laughing at Emmett.

With his resolve renewed, Emmett turned to face Seras Victoria . . . and got completely owned.

Seras threw a variety of combat moves in Emmett's direction. He did his best to try and counter those moves, but he himself only had one tactic; charge forward and let brute force do the rest. With Seras, she was the physically superior opponent thanks to her lineage and the runes of power inscribed on her large mammaries. Denied the advantage of physicality, Emmett was helpless.

Various strikes came against Emmett and to his credit, he did attempt to improvise but he lacked Seras Victoria's practice and experience. For all the damage he took, he did admirably and even managed to score a few near hits against Seras.

The Wolf pack however was howling with laughter; even moderate and kind Seth was laughing his head at Emmett's moaning and wailing. Alice watched the whole violent spectacle as if she was observing a very fascinating car accident.

Seras was having the time of her unlife as she gave Emmett various moves such as the eye gouge, eardrum clap, knee shattering kick and at last a move called—

"The neck ripper," Zohall explained. "Although technically it fucks up more than just the neck."

On cue, Seras jumped over Emmett's head and encircled an arm around his neck. With her free hand she put her palm on his lower back; there she simultaneously pulled on his neck and pushed on his back with a loud spinal _crack_!

Emmett growled in pain, like a wounded beast, but Seras wasn't done. She repeated this move about seven more times until most certainly his vertebrae were destroyed.

Moaning in pain, Emmett writhed on the ground like a dying insect. "Rosie, help me!" he wailed piteously. Instantly, Rose was there by his side; rocking him like a baby and assuring him that the mean English bitch wouldn't hurt him again.

Zohall shot Seras a nervous look. "I think we overdid it."

"I disagree," Seras injected.

Esme stepped forward. "Take me for your demonstrations. My heart can't bear it anymore to see this happen to my children."

Seras nodded and wound back her fist for a strike. "Now," she said. "This is a little move I like to call—

But Sears froze on the spot. She'd spent a lot of time with Esme over the last little while but it was only now that she was really taking in her features. Caramel coloured hair, short for a woman; she was very pretty. Round, heart shaped face and eyes of infinite compassion. Her topaz eyes were full of sadness.

In an eye blink, Seras felt like she'd just taken a punch in the gut. Esme looked exactly like her mother before she died. They were different people but they could have been sisters.

Everyone watched intently as Seras froze like a meat statue. And to the surprise of everyone, Seras broke down and started sobbing bloody tears onto Esme's shoulder.

In a display of compassion, Esme began to stroke Seras hair and comfort her.

Slightly embarrassed at his partner's totally breakdown, Zohall attempted to salvage the situation. "Well, she'll be alright in a couple of minutes." An idea came to him.

He pointed directly at the big bald guy who led the Quileutes. "Yo, Sammy," he called out.

Sam grunted in confusion at being addressed in such a fashion. Since he had personally beaten the living shit out of every drug dealer and ne'r do well on the reservation, not many people showed him any form of disrespect.

"Yeah, you boss," Zohall confirmed.

Unused to being put on the spot, Sam stepped forward and put on his typically scowling game face. "What do you want?"

Zohall stood next to Sam and explained. "Well, since you're the leader of the pack, I was wondering if you wanted to share any fighting moves or tips with the group."

Sam glanced around. Leah was glaring daggers at him; for good reason too. Seras was still bawling. Emmett's injuries had healed but Seras still terrified him; he peered at her nervously from Rosalie's comforting embrace.

Sam was very reluctant to share his wisdom with the bloodsuckers, even one who was crying like a little girl and one that just turned out to be a big dumb teddy bear.

Still, some instinct in his head told him that he should comply with Zohall's request and reluctantly began to share what he'd learned.

"Well," he began, uncertain how to respond. The pack obeyed him because they were genetically hardwired to, but it was little help overcoming his lifelong nervousness at speaking in front of crowds. "Back before the . . . change, I was a pretty big guy."

Sam was the oldest of the pack and had always been big and strong for his age.

"I got into a lot of fights in bars on the rez and I just happened to win more fights than I lost."

Sam was overcoming his nervousness about talking in front of a crowd. Even the bloodsuckers were now starting to get interested in what he had to say.

"My old man was a fucking cunt," Sam explained. "He never taught me shit; it was my Uncle John that taught me how to fight."

"Didn't he just get out of jail?" Jared asked.

Sam narrowed his eyes at Jared. "Shut up," he ordered. Uncle John was the salt of the earth, despite his being arrested for DUI and drug possession for the seventh time.

The pack leader continued. "Anyway, Uncle John taught me how to fight and he taught me well." He took a step closer to Zohall. "The first thing he taught me was—BAM!"

Without any prior warning, Sam struck out and punched Zohall right in the solar plexus. The wind instantly left Zohall's lungs and the young vampire hunter's eyes bulged out of their sockets.

"THAT'S HOW YOU FUCKING DO IT!" Sam shouted, high on the adrenaline of the strike. "You hit hard, hit first and fucking hit them so that they never get back up."

Zohall was on his knees by now. Seras was slowly pulling herself back together; she blew her nose on Esme's bandanna, which was graciously offered. Rose had put Emmett down and he was slowly starting to climb out of the childlike state of fear he was in.

"_My organs_" Zohall wheezed; his hands clenched at thin air.

Sam went on, walking around the helpless Zohall. "When you're in a fight, you just go "oh I'm sorry mister, I don't want to fight I was just leaving. Please don't—BAM!" Sam jumped forward and grabbed Zohall's sword out of the ground.

Using Gleam, Sam began to swing the heavy blade dangerously close to Zohall's vulnerable human body. Each time he swung, the blade stopped just a hand span from supple flesh and bone.

Sam stopped his savage display and stuck the sword back into the ground. "Distract him with small talk and then slice open his throat with a knife."

Sam held up a fist proudly. "When I became a wolf my scars healed, but the fights I won and lost have stayed with me."

"I think that Zohall is getting back up again," Jasper pointed out.

"I hope he's okay," said Bella.

"I hope to god that he's not," Rose seethed.

Shakily, Zohall Mercer was picking himself up off the ground. The young warrior's eyes were full of fury. "Okay big man," he wheezed. "You want it, you got it."

Shaking his limbs out, Zohall began to bounce on the balls of his feet. "I'm descended from the Germans dude; the fucking Teutonic Knights and you're gonna pay."

Sam looked at Zohall with dismissal. "Relax buddy, I'm not in the habit of hitting girls."

"Oh yeah," Zohall scoffed, "You think I'm a girl? Well I'll have to set the record straight." He began to throw martial arts strikes which were blindingly fast, just to warm himself up. "It's just you and me; _mano e mano_, bitch!"

Sam was getting bored. "You got a point?"

"Yeah, top of your head." Unwilling to take an unfair advantage over an ally, Zohall did the only thing he could think of. "Falcon Punch!"

He launched himself at Sam's powerful frame and threw strikes which had they hit would have instantly killed a normal man. Sam however just stepped back under the onslaught and lazily blocked the strikes with the palm of his hand. "Just calm down buddy," Sam said. "There's no way you can beat me."

As he pushed Sam back, Zohall smiled. "I don't have to beat you, she does,"

Sam blocked another strike from Zohall when the stars suddenly came out. Sam groaned loudly and put his hands to his groin. Then the leader of the wolf pack fell over from a most powerful kick to the groin.

Everybody just looked at Leah, the originator of the kick to Sam's balls; nobody was more surprised than Seth. "Holy shit Leah, you just sacked Sam."

"Did you need glasses or something," she sneered at her little bro's ability to state the obvious.

Zohall laughed and revealed his brilliant strategy. "Who's laughing now, Mr. Wolfman? I just had to herd you towards the chick that you dumped for another chick and then—

_BAM!_

Zohall's eyes crossed as a fist belonging to Leah slammed down on her head. Putting both hands on his head, he fell to the ground and joined Sam; two men of different ethnic backgrounds and creeds . . . in some serious pain.

"_Concussion"_, Zohall moaned.

Jasper tried to salvage the tragedy by sending out calming waves. It helped a great deal but merely using his power made the wolf pack go on edge and become hostile despite his best efforts. Fortunately the Merchant saved the day by declaring a lunch break. "West coast special," laughed the sketchy man with salmon and cream cheese sandwiches jammed into his coat. The sandwiches were overpriced, but still edible.

After heads had cooled, it was back to work again and this time nobody served as a guinea pig.

The main fighters from either group gathered and began to share their knowledge with each other and with the group at large.

Jasper brought in his experience as a creator and killer of newborns. The newborns would be fantastically strong; the most physically powerful of them would have enough raw strength to overwhelm Paladin Anderson. Once on the attack, they would lose all rational thought and behave like rabid dogs; attack, attack, attack. The only way to beat them was to play on their stupidity, feting and kill them by attacking from the side and back.

As an expert fighter of vampires and bio organic weapons in general, Zohall brought in his two cents. Newborns were like zombies, relentless but stupid. Over the years, he and his fellow T-Virus hunters had formed a fighting style specifically for zombies. This fighting style involved and emphasis on head shots, neck breaking and wriggling like a snake. Once a zombie or a newborn had you in its grip; it was game over. Only this zombie wushu, as Zohall called it, would allow a fighter even a chance if they were caught in a newborn's unholy strength.

Due to Victoria never making up her mind, Alice wouldn't get an accurate lock on how many newborns there were or when they'd arrive so not a minute of training could be wasted.

As the experts hashed out fighting strategy, everybody else paired up and sparred. This was full contact training; injuries were not only expected, they were encouraged.

Edward fought against Leah, the two ducked and weaved. Edward found his mind reading edge was partially negated by the wolf hive mind. It was impossible to tell who was having what thought and when.

Leah had an edge in that she was furiously determined to rip a limb off at least. But Edward was evading her claws and bites. Suddenly, one of his feet slipped and Leah took off Edward's arm in her jaws with six inch long teeth. There was a metallic screech as the limb was rent form Edward's body, but he struck back.

Unable to use his remaining arm, Edward lunched forward and head-butted Leah right on her black wet nose. The horse sized she wolf yelped and dropped his severed limb. Ignoring the feeling of disgust as he picked up his drool covered limb, he began to swing it at her like a club.

Emmett smiled in satisfaction as his punch connected with Jared's flank. The wolf flew sideways and rolled on the grass, slamming into a tree and breaking it in half. The punch hurt more than breaking the tree in half.

Seras meanwhile clashed with Jasper. He was much more of a challenge than his brother. Seras was enjoying fighting him.

In his own mind, Jasper was frustrated. Seras wasn't just strong, she was very clever. She wasn't clever in a street smart kind of way but she was physically smart; she was graceful and knew how to maximize what he body could do. It honestly wounded his ego to see himself lose to a woman so, even though they were fighting to a standstill.

Seras really had to thank Alucard for what he'd taught her. He wasn't easy to live with but he gave her useful lessons on how to be lethal. One thing he'd taught her was that it wasn't enough to attack from the side; she must attack from the front, the back, the side, up, down, night, day. She wasn't supposed to beat she odds; she was supposed to own them.

Partners were swapped and instruction was mixed in and fighters were given advice on where their weaknesses lay. Edward was deadly until he gave into taunts; then he just became stupid. Jake was driven and vicious but he consistently left his flank open. Seras style was brutal but she was easily surprised; a deadly flaw in a fight. Seth just wasn't aggressive enough, but there was hope for the boy yet.

Surprisingly enough, Carlisle was one of the deadliest fighters; easily able to beat Seras, Jasper and Sam Uley. Somehow his capacity for enhanced compassion allowed him to understand his opponents and what hurt them with uncanny accuracy. That combined a total self-confidence born of an unshakeable belief in his own moral rightness insured that he left no opening unexploited. He was like batman; devastating in a fight, but he did not kill.

Carlisle was one of those rare Unstet whose power was difficult to define and poorly understood. In the past it allowed him to perform surgery on humans when most of his race went into feeding frenzy at the sight of a paper cut. Now it was going to help him bring enemies to justice and save his family.

Later in the day, Zohall was interviewing Bella. He wanted to know how the girl would contribute. "So, do you have any military experience, any police experience; were you ever part of a special ops group?"

Bella shook her head. "No, I took a self defense course once but I sucked at it."

Zohall nodded. That narrowed things down. "Do you have any expertise with explosives? Ever disarm a bomb or pilot a multimillion dollar war machine?"

She shook her head again. "No."

Zohall rubbed his chin. "We're really running out of choices here." An idea suddenly came to him. "Can you act as bait?"

Bella thought about it for a second. "Sure, I guess."

This made Edward freak out. "NO! Bella love, you're staying right here."

This only caused Bella to yell back at Edward. "I can do what I want Edward! I'm being bait if I want to!"

Edward began to beg and plead. "Please love, don't do this to me! I couldn't stand it if something happened to you!"

"Shut up!" Shouted Seras. "Get back to practice you little geezer," she pointed at Edward and he reluctantly slipped away.

Then Seras addressed Zohall. "Zohall, you can't ask this girl to be bait. She's eighteen years old for God's sake!"

Embarrassed at his own insensitivity, Zohall rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh yeah, sorry Bella."

Bella held her hands together. She was feeling rather useless; her sweet blood and impenetrable mind weren't going to be any good in the battle to be. She wasn't slick, confident or sexy; the only person who'd ever told her she was beautiful was her fiancé. She couldn't fight and she wasn't a ninja or anything useful. She was running out of choices. Maybe she could be bait.

An idea suddenly came to Seras. "Your father is a bobby right?"

Seras was met with a blank stare. She then realized that she was talking to a yank. "I mean a policeman."

Seras smiled and turned to Zohall. "Take this girl down to the local police station and try to steal as much ammunition and explosives as you possibly can."

Zohall mashed a fist into his palm. "Awesome sauce."

Bella's brown eyes suddenly widened. "What?"

Seras put her hands on Bella's shoulders. "Look, you're only a kid; I know what that feels like, but you shouldn't throw your life away to prove how grown up you are." Letting go of Bella's shoulders, Seras instructed the girl. "If you want to prove that you're strong and independent, you'll help my friend break the law and steal from the police station. As a bobby's daughter, you're perfectly suited to distract the fuzz while my partner gets away with the swag."

Bella protested. "But my dad is chief of police. He could get really mad."

The blond swordsman comforted Bella. "He'll only get mad if you get caught. If I get caught, I'll say I worked alone."

Seras smiled reassuringly. Somehow it was easier for Bella to take advice from Seras than from anybody else. Maybe it was because she had the body that Bella wanted. "Bella, my mission is to provide security for the upcoming wedding. I intend for you to be alive when the wedding happens. Now tomorrow you're going to go and steal from your father's workplace; then you'll prove that you're an adult."

"Well, okay; I guess," Bella lowered her gaze and bit on her lower lip.

Seras patted the younger girl on the shoulder. The fact that she was literally only a few years older than Bella really helped her relate to the girl on a level that most of the immediate vampires in the area could not.

There was much that Seras could teach the young girl, if only Bella was willing to listen.

_Vancouver, British Columbia_

While her army was camped in Seattle, Victoria personally stayed in the city of Vancouver; known in some circles as the drug capital of Canada. The blood drug addicts tasted rather nasty and most unappealing to the Unstet palate, but none the less it Victoria found that it in no way harmful. She was just as strong as ever.

The flame haired, immortal beauty sat in what was once a meth lab. The walls were mouldy and the entire place stank like piss and shit. She could have stayed in a much nicer place, but that wasn't the point of it.

The whole reason she was staying here in Canada's drug capital was to stay under the radar. Her power was one of evasion. No matter what the scenario, she could always instinctively pick out the rout of escape for her and those she cared about. It was part inborn power and part learned talent and over the years she'd learned to control it and it had grown more sophisticated.

So this escape and evasion instinct had served Victoria well over the years. The few times she'd gotten near Forks she'd been driven away by the damnable wolves. Curse those stinking bests. She'd thought the Volturi had annihilated all their putrid kind. Before that, the only wolf she'd know to be alive had been working for the German Reich during the conflict that followed the Great War.

Obviously not, but if the deal she'd cut with the Volturi worked out well, then they could swoop in and destroy such an obvious threat to the peace and security of the vampire species. It was bad enough that they allowed living the various werewolf derivate species and imitators. Were it up to Victoria, she'd slay ever last dog in existence.

She got revenge for her lover's death and they got to recruit the survivors into the self-serving cult.

Her first and foremost goal however was the bitch, Isabella Marie Swan. Victoria knew all about her. When a woman was blessed with red hair this beautiful, there were few places she couldn't go.

She was the reason behind her lover, James's death. Had James not gone on another one of his foolish hunts, he'd still be alive.

Victoria clenched her eyes at the emotional pain. She'd followed James for years; given him everything that he wanted without any hesitation or regret. She'd have killed herself if he asked.

Then the fool boy Edward had killed James. This hurt worse because in her deepest heart, Victoria knew that James did not love her. Oh, he had appreciated her and he might have grown to love her but for years Victoria had faithfully served a man who did not love her.

With the death of James, she would never love another.

So she plotted revenge from here; never having contact with her army except through her pawn Riley.

Riley loved Victoria while Victoria was cool towards him, to put it charitably. In fact, their relationship was the inverse of her relationship with James. The only difference was that Riley really thought that Victoria loved him.

Like Honest Iago, Victoria did what she did for reasons divorced from empathy or morality. Victoria was aware of the parallels but chose to go ahead as it didn't matter. Like Iago tormenting the Moor, Victoria would do as if for surety; no hesitation or forgiveness. Blood must be paid for in blood.

With her waist length mane of blood red hair, Victoria would make men and women fall to their knees.

She strongly suspected that the Volturi may try to betray her. Better than that she never give them a reason to act in such a way. Until the very last moment, she would keep her hands clean and let the mindless slaves get the blood on their hands.

After centuries of living, Victoria had learned to trust both logic and instinct as well as strike a balance between the two. She'd escaped Volturi death squads, Iscariot holy armies, death in various guises and even slipped through Alucard's fingers after she'd stolen a gold tooth that he'd gotten prior to the start of the Second World War.

Little did the Volturi realize however that she had assistance in this fight. A little friend had come to her asking the secret behind Alice Cullen's visions. In exchange for tactical information on the Cullens and their allies as well as a promise to help her to find the black werewolf of Siberia who killed her entire village, she promised her little friend the secret of Alice's visions.

Victoria's inner clock alerted her to the fact that it was almost time to meet her little friend.

Perching herself upon the rotted remains of a once fine sofa, Victoria stood like a misplaced statue carved by one of the old masters from the renaissance. Her mere presence and beauty lit up the dark, dingy room and her sense of vengeance and bloodlust made the ambiance all the more suffocating.

When her ally finally appeared, her red eyes didn't even blink. After fifteen hundred years of life, she did not surprise easily anymore.

"Good evening, Warrant Officer Schrodinger," she greeted.

* * *

Man, this story just seems to write itself. It's not easy, but damn is it fun. And I hope you have as much fun as when you're reading it. I'd like to thank all my reviewers right off the hop for showing up and taking time out of your schedule for me

Up next is a short prayerfic which is dedicated to the saying of a humble satanic prayer. Don't like anything related to Satan, don't read the next chapter. But your loss.

Ta

Master of the Boot


	35. Interlude 2: Pray to the Devils

Interlude Number Two: Pray to the Devils

Disclaimer: I do now own any trademarked characters or other shit. EZB created the awesome Zohall Mercer and I am the one borrowing him. I do not own the invocation to Satan. If themes of Satanism bother you in any way please turn back. If you want Christian themes, read the _Narnia_ books. I'm one for edgier stuff. I do not own the Invocation to Satan, that is owned by Diane Vera but I may be wrong.

While I was writing this chapter I listened to _Ready Steady Go_, the theme for _Fullmetal Alchemist_ and _White Death_ by Sabaton. Awesome music to write about Satanism.

_, Hail, Satan,_

_Lord of Darkness_

Carlisle stood before his family, the wolf pack and the Hellsing assassins. For tonight's ritual he'd adopted a simple black shirt made of cotton and matching slacks. The fabric of his clothing was rough and homespun. Around his neck hung a silver pentagram with a lightning bolt striking the center.

He gazed solemnly at his family and allies; tonight he had put in extra effort into what was for him already a very important ritual.

_King of Hell,_

_Ruler of the Earth,_

_God of this World!_

The ritual took place outdoors in an area that was special to Carlisle. It was a small clearing within the forest. Covered by branches overhead, it felt like everyone was inside a cathedral of trees. For his worship, Carlisle preferred this kind of place over any manmade church.

All around, hung on the trees or placed with care on the ground were nearly a dozen Satanic symbols, ritual items or markings of power. Zohall Mercer had been kind enough to help, for under the evil but wise teaching of Alucard he had come to learn much about Satan.

Esme had provided everyone here with the same black rough spun cotton garments; attendees tonight were all equals. Before the eyes of the dark prince all were equally sinful . . . and it was not necessarily a bad thing.

Bella looked at everything in wide eyed curiosity. This was her first ever black mass and she was both excited and frightened. Her sole knowledge of Satanism came from by and large horror movies and video games which usually involved child sacrifice or other such hullabaloo. The thought of blood flowing made her nauseous; she hoped they wouldn't have to sacrifice a cat or something like that.

_God Who invites us to become as gods!_

_Muse of our civilization,_

Despite being a former Anglican priest, the years had slowly but surely changed Carlisle's religious view. He still believed that men and vampire both must overcome their base instincts to revel in God's glory, but he no longer believed in the rejection of those base instincts because such a rejection would be impossible.

His family knew about his love of Satanism but this was the first time they'd ever taken part in a ritual with their father. Alice still loved her father; that he was a Satanist dind't even matter. Jasper was initially horrified by the revelation but he eventually warmed up to it. Seeing Carlisle worshipping Satan made him realize that his father wasn't a saint and it helped bring them closer together.

Thus, Carlisle made it a point to celebrate both the light and to honor the darkness. Rituals like these with animal sacrifice were ways for him to pay respect to the darkness of the world.

Seeing that everything was ready, Carlisle began with a prepared speech.

_Dread Enemy of its tyrant god!_

_Satan, mighty Liberator_

Stepping forward into the giant pentragram they had drawn on the ground and stood at th every center of the group; there in the center of the pentagram's concentrated spiritual energies.

"Satan is not found in a book, in movies or in media. You cannot find the Prince of Darkness in so called arcane relics or magic guitar picks."

Emmett was about to correct his father and say that Ozzie Osborne was the Prince of fucking Darkness but a nudge from Rosie stopped him.

Carlisle stood proudly, displaying the Satanic virtues of vital existence and vengeance.

_Bearer of true Light!_

"Satan is in all of us. Satan is the little voice inside of us that tells us not to work hard and to have sex with fourteen year old girls all night long."

He turned and his honey coloured eyes were full of kindness and warmth. "He's the one that tells us to say 'fuck you' to the people that we don't like."

_God of our flesh,_

_God of our minds_

Carlisle clenched his fists and his fatherly voice began to turn stern. "Satan teaches us to respect another when you enter into their lair or else do not enter."

"If another disrespects or annoys you in your lair, treat them cruelly, without mercy." His manner grew hard and the attention of all was commanded. Not even Emmett would even dream of speaking out of turn now.

_God of our innermost Will!_

"These newborns have defiled our lands. They have threatened both our peoples and done harm to those that we hold dear. From what we gather, this is a blood feud in which there can be no middle ground. They seek to destroy us. They show neither pity nor mercy, and thus they shall receive none themselves!" His voice and energy level was slowly building up to a crescendo of intensity.

Carlisle's eye lit with fire and his voice overflowed with passion. "Maybe not tomorrow but very soon, that army of newborns will come and someone is going to die. As a father it pains me to tell my children that neither they nor I have a guarantee of survival. I am sorry children, but that is the truth and you are strong enough to know it."

"When they come, they can either flee forever and escape with their lives—or we of Satan's fold may go unto them AND FUCK SHIT UP!"

_O mighty Lord Satan,_

_Teach us to become strong and wise!_

Carlisle continued to preach with fire and fury. "You before me! I see no wolves or vampires; no whites or red men or women among you. I see only my allies, family and friends! Join me and gladly die for the sake of that which you love the most!"

In a howl fitting for Paladin Anderson, Carlisle hollered out. "Join me in prayer to the dark prince as we show our enemies what it means to cross paths with the Great Satan!"

_Teach us to vanquish the enemies_

_of our freedom and well-being!_

_REGE SATANA!_

Thus the prayer to Satan was said. Tomorrow they would train again and again until at last the newborn army would arrive at their door whenever it's hidden commander so pleased. Their fate would be decided for good or for evil. Nothing was certain; chance prevailed.

Exhaling and breathing in deeply. Carlisle began to return to his normal self.

Normally at this point everyone in the black mass would have sex with each other and go wild in a frenzied lust, but this was the first time his children had ever attended the black Sabbath and he wanted to take it slow. Jasper was still a practicing Christian and an orgy might scare him off. Edward was an atheist but he was still pretty prudish.

So they would skip the sex and just indulge in rock and roll. "Zohall, if you please," he gestured to the blond swordsman.

Zohall had been waiting for his. With a sleight of hand, he picked up an electric guitar from the base of a tree and grabbed a battery powered speaker.

Stepping into Carlisle's place at the center of the pentagram, he motioned for Seras to approach.

Eyes glowing fiercely, Seras held up her arm; now a shape shifting mass of black shadows and geometric shapes.

Before everyone's eyes, the shadow arm turned into a full drum kit manned by a sleazy Frenchman with a ponytail and an eye patch. The ghostly Frenchman lit himself an ethereal cigarette and grabbed the drumsticks. "Let's do eet," he spoke in his thick accent.

Before the blink of an eye, Zohall was shredding licks on the electric guitar, Pip was going loco on the drums and Seras was dancing and boogying.

A sense of freedom and liberation was overcoming everyone. It was as if now that they had spoken of death, its power over them was now broken and they could live at their fullest.

As the music blared, everyone took to dance with free abandon; even the clumsy Bella was shaking her money maker like she hadn't a care in the world.

The music rose high into the night and while death may come tomorrow, tonight it was party time.

* * *

I admit that this was an experimental piece for me. It's the closest thing to a songfic that I've ever done and I wanted to try my hand at it. It was rather fun to do. But as to whether the effort paid off or not, I leave that up to my loving and wise readers. This was thrilling to write and I hope you liked reading it as much as I like writing it.

Now, I'm going to make a few recommendations since these people are rather good.

If you love metal Gear then check out _Metal Gear: Regenesis_, by Blacksand1

If you love Hellsing with a sprinkle of resident evil, check out the _Hellsing War Chronicles_ by EZB,

If you're in the mood for Hellsing and X-Men, check out Captain Lycan's story, _Hellsing X. _

Or if you're in the mood for Hellsing and Deathnote, see Shallowswan's excellent story _Flower of war_.

For those who like a gentler story, Lion in the Land's _Charity Burbage and the New Prince_ will make you go "awww"

Any one of these authors will have you up all night reading and waiting to see when the next update will come out.

Ta

Master of the boot


	36. The Death of Bree Tanner: Part 1

The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair

Chapter Thirty-seven: The Death of Bree Tanner Part 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, Hellsing or anything else. This will be the first chapter ever from a first person pov; multiple pov's at that. It is inspired by the book _The Short Second life of Bree Tanner_, which is an excellent book, better than Twilight in fact. Simon Ferenczy is an original character of mine

* * *

_Excerpt from the diary of Arthur Hellsing_

_I remember as a boy that I had romantic notions of ridding the world of vampires once and for all. I believed, as many young boys are inclined to do, that I had some special quality which would allow me to save the world. _

_I used to run about the halls of the mansion, pretending that I was going after the last vampire, in the last tomb and staking him for good and then winning the beautiful princess. _

_Now, in the winter of my life I fully understand now that the vampire problem is not one that is likely to be solved. _

_Fight with your life against the vampires; but do not expect recognition, praise or success. Once you go to fight vampires, you are automatically doomed to fail from the onset. Like a degenerate gambler, the best vampire hunters play to lose, not to win. _

_Consider the analogy of a rat infestation. Traps and poison are only stop gap measures and at best only remove a few specimens. The only real way to purge a rat infestation is to eliminate their food source. _

_Only when the last human has gone the way of the dinosaur will the age of vampires come to an end. _

* * *

_Seattle, unknown warehouse, Industrial District_

We lived in darkness and we died in darkness. As far as I was concerned, there wasn't much difference between my second life and my first life.

I was a vampire, but I didn't want to think of myself as undead. I'm not dead. I can still move, I can still talk; I am still me.

There are about thirty of us in the warehouse although the number changes daily.

We're not in control of ourselves. Little things set us off; loud noises or bright lights or sudden movements make us go crazy.

Every one of us carries lighters and lighter fluid on us; even me. In three months of being a vampire, watching us rip each other apart and burn the pieces has become old. At first it scared me that we—I—could kill so easily but now it's just a fact of life.

As a human I never thought I'd end up eating out of garbage cans and dumpsters after running from home; but I did.

And I have killed other vampires here under Riley's "care." It was them or me. It doesn't matter whether I like it or not. I can't control my actions; I'm just like the rest of them.

We are the outcasts of life; we're just the garbage. That's why Riley chose us. There was nothing to hold us back. We're all runaways, gang members, drug addicts and whores.

For the last three months we've done nothing but eat and train. There are no coffins here, we never sleep. I don't care about sleep; as a human I stayed up all night texting with friends and falling asleep during class . . . at least before mom left us and dad started hitting us.

What I really miss is dreaming. Dreaming is the only thing that makes sleep worthwhile.

On the other hand, I'm glad I don't sleep because in this place somebody could easily kill me in it.

"Look lively, you cunts!" that's the voice of Riley. He's our handler. He's the one who turned us and he watches out for us in a fashion. He likes to swear because he thinks that it makes him look tough.

All of us stop what we're doing and look at Riley, but only for a second. It's hard for us to think straight, me included. I can hear Riley talk, my ears can hear every word but my brain is having a hard time keeping up with translating his words.

"—isten closely because I'm only going to say this once!"

A few of us twitch and fewer of us listen.

The reason we haven't killed Riley now is because we'd all be lost without him. Unlike us, Riley had a clear head and full control of his mental faculties. He's the one who showed us how to feed, who to feed on and how to hide the evidence.

He's also the one who told us that sunlight would kill us and we believe him. After all, we've seen the ashes of vampires who walked into the sun.

Riley began talking much more than was necessary. He started to ramble on about how we were finally ready to begin the attack.

Ready to begin? We weren't ready for anything. We were just animals doing whatever Riley told us to do.

Apparently, the whole reason we were turned was because _the woman_, because there was a woman behind this; had a problem with a group of vampires living up on the Olympic peninsula. They were supposed to be old vampires—weak vampires. _She _wanted their hunting grounds.

We were brought up to detest weakness. In a place like this, the weak didn't last long and the strong only lasted a little bit longer. It was all one big charnel house but as awful as it was, I really had no place else to turn and the outside world frightened me almost more than death.

As I squatted there, pretending to listen to Riley, I caught sight of Diego. He was a Hispanic boy and very handsome with his dark curls and dimples. Once he tore off my arm. I'm not mad about it though, because I'm sure I tore off plenty of arms during fits of rage.

Just about everybody here has lost an arm or a leg at some point. One girl even lost her hair; but like _Interview with the Vampire_, it just grew back.

I don't really remember much from my human life. Most of what I remember are all bad, terrible memories. The movie with Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise is one of the few good memories I still have.

The way I see it, Louise and Lestat had it easy compared to me. They lived in a beautiful house on a plantation and Louise eventually got to see the world.

For me, my world consists of this dingy warehouse and the filthy back alleys of Seattle filled with scum and human trash. There isn't any beauty in my life.

I come back to reality and listen to what Riley is saying again.

"There are only seven of those fuckers and thirty of us! We'll crush them like a fucking ant!"

Riley is trying to be inspirational but he's just getting us riled up; which is never good thing.

One of the vampires who actually seemed to be enthralled by Riley's speech is Raul. Like Diego, Raul is a former gang member who has killed people. There is a world of difference between them though.

Diego killed people; he'd been in a gang long enough to do it. He was caught killing somebody and was going to get life in prison for it when Riley found him and "rescued" him. All that Diego did was trade one prison for another.

Raul is different though. He's the sort of guy who likes cutting people up. From word around the grapevine, he was never high up on the gang hierarchy; just a loose cannon who could be counted on to do a hit.

Once I watched Raul play with his food. He found that woman and drained her, just like we usually do. Then he began to use his teeth and fingers to mutilate the body, especially the woman's private parts.

I'm a bit afraid of Raul, but if he tries anything I'll kill the little toad.

Diego.

My thoughts wander back to him. He is rather cute. Sometimes his eyes are almost kind . . . almost. At least they're never cruel.

Diego notices me looking at him and he smiles a bit. I smile back a bit. Since I've become a vampire; it's like being drunk. I can barely keep my head straight without superhuman effort. But Diego makes me feel good.

He's the only one who ever smiles at me and I'm the only one who smiles at him.

When vampires smile, they never show teeth. Showing teeth means showing aggression, even if you're smiling while you do it.

Riley is talking about how we're going to own this town once those vampires are dead. He mentions that they've got a human pet with them or something.

Weird; how do they resist the smell of her blood? Around here, we can barely resist the blood of crack addicts whose blood is more drugs than blood.

The human pet or whatever she is must be like Renfield from _Dracula_.

Riley makes it clear to us that whoever kills the human will be greatly rewarded.

Why?

What's so special about one little human? I've killed so many humans in the last three months that their faces are starting to blend together into one and they all look the same. Really, they're just food; I used to eat hamburgers, fundamentally there's no difference.

When we hunt, we lose all sense of ourselves. We think only with the hind brain; the primitive part of the brain. And a corpse doesn't shake me much; it's already dead. By the time I realize what I've done, the human I ate doesn't feel any more pain. So really there is no point in crying over it.

Suddenly, somebody bumps into somebody else and in no time all hell breaks loose.

We all start fighting like siblings and I don't care who I'm biting. I grapple with somebody else and they bite my shoulder; I don't see their face as I bite their shoulder back.

Everyone is kicking and punching and biting; it's lucky we haven't brought down the building by now. Maybe it's because we're focusing on killing each other that this shitty warehouse is still standing.

Riley hollered to try and get us to behave but it's hopeless.

Riley has a few advantages over us. He's smarter and more experienced. Also, because he's older than us, he doesn't burn as easily. He lost an arm once and somebody tried to burn it with lighter fluid but it didn't do anything.

But realistically, there was nothing he could do to stop us.

Riley was only a pawn in this scheme. That mysterious woman who made him, she was the brains.

_BOOM!_

The guy who was coming now—

_BOOM!_

—He was the muscle behind this operation.

His footsteps were as loud as cannon fire.

_BOOM!_

When he wanted to be, he was like a ghost; he could go anywhere and you'd never see or hear him until it was too late.

The "man" who came in to restore order had no name. He never spoke, never grunted or whispered; he was silent as a tomb.

Nobody knew his name, not even Riley. So we just called him The Big Man. When The Big Man looked at you, you stopped what you were doing.

As he walked over to us, we were hit by his smell. The stunk; he smelled like a rotting corpse, bad food and blood poisoning.

He never made a sound because he never needed to. He was so powerful that he didn't need to posture and toot his horn like Riley did.

He had more than enough strength to take any one of us, and we could easily throw cars like Styrofoam cups and crush steel.

The Big Man towered over us; his olive green military coat wrapped around him like a cape, but instead of billowing it just stayed wrapped around him. The effect was that it made him look more sinister and closed off.

He looked almost handsome with his Germanic features and messy blonde hair. Even though his coat had no insignia on it, I could imagine that he was a soldier or something.

We were vampires; killers to the last. We ate humans like peanuts and felt no guilt for it, but looking into the eyes of The Big Man just wasn't done.

Looking into those bright blue eyes made you feel small; crushed your ego.

He earned his title too. He must have been close to eight feet, maybe ever taller. He had a chest as wide as two linebackers, legs like sequoia trees and arms that looked like they could pick up a battleship without ever breaking a sweat.

He gave us one look and we powerful newborn vampires began to shrink back like bad children. We were the dogs, he was the senior kennel master; Riley was just the guy who fed the hounds.

The Big Man was nothing if not predictable. When there was a fight, it was always the same. He would appear and then he'd make an example of one of us. Today that just happened to be me.

I know he didn't pick me for any specific reason, but that didn't make it any easier when he reached down and grabbed me by the throat and raised me into the air.

I kicked, fought and bit but against The Big Man I might as well have been a small child. I tried to console myself by saying that this would only hurt for a second, but I couldn't think rationally. All I could think about was his stench in my nostrils and those laser beam blue eyes bearing down on me.

I tried to tell myself that having my skull smashed in like a pumpkin wouldn't be so bad; I failed miserably.

What happened next took me completely by surprise.

**WHAM!**

I wasn't sure what was going on. I thought at first The Big Man had crushed my skull, but he simply let me fall to the floor and I landed like a cat.

Diego, the vamp I smiled at was standing next to The Big Man with his fist extended in the punch position.

The Big Man's hat had fallen off of his head and there was a red mark on his cheek shaped like a fist mark.

The Big Man had been knocked off balance. Diego had hit the big man. I looked on in horror; you never, ever, _ever_ hit The Big Man. You even think about hitting him and you'd better pull your head out of your ass and apologize.

We all looked with shock. Even Diego looked shocked at what he'd done. A part of me wanted to jump in and help him; a bigger part of me—the dominant part of me—was frozen in fear.

The Big Man never spoke, but he said volumes. With a wave of his hand and a look of his eyes, he could herd us like cattle. He never got involved much; Riley took care of the day to day particulars of our lives.

Now, The Big Man was pissed off and you could tell. His hair was standing up from where his hat fell. The muscles in his neck were standing up and his head was turned at a slight angle.

Just like that, he was on Diego like shit on Velcro.

Faster than I could register, he drove his fist right through Diego's chest. The sound was horrible, a cross between metal being crushed at a junkyard press and rocks being crushed.

Punching his other fist through Diego's stomach, The Big Man pulled in opposite directions and tore Diego apart.

I must have been a coward because I just sat there like a scared rabbit. There was nothing I personally could do against The Big Man.

Then, he threw the two halves of Diego on top of each other like a sandwich and started to pummel them into oblivion. Back and forth his fists went, going again nearly too fast for me to see. And that's saying something because I can see a bullet in midair as clearly as a slow tennis ball.

His fists came down with such force that the whole building was shaking. Dry rotted drywall and plaster was coming down and outside we could hear car alarms going off.

When he was done, The Big Man dusted Diego-dust off of his coat and picked up his hat. Then he walked away and left Riley to clean up the mess; his work here was finished.

Before us, Diego had been pounded into an unidentifiable mass of paste. I knew vampire would come back from some pretty harsh injuries, but in this helpless state more than a few malicious vampires would try to burn him.

I didn't save him from The Big Man but I could at least save him from his fellow vampires.

First I was going to need to take Diego to a safe place.

At that moment, Raul was getting closer and closer to Diego with a box of matches and a pig-in-shit grin. He and Diego had hated each other from the moment they met.

Jumping forward, I roared at Raul and bared my teeth.

He roared back, but so soon after The Big Man, nobody was eager for another fight so he backed off. The cockroach left to hunt but he'd be back.

It didn't take me long before I discovered one of Raul's little treasure troves. A big black garbage bag full of decaying human body parts. Turning out the bag, a few severed hands and an eyeball fell out; I don't think any other vampire really bothered to take trophies from his victims.

There was also a bloody t-shirt and shorts in the bag. They stunk but hopefully they'd fit Diego; his own clothes had been destroyed in the beating he took.

Feeling kind of icky, I scooped up the Diego-paste with my hands and began to shovel it into the plastic bag.

I got a little way from the warehouse just in time for the plastic bag to tear wide open and for the contents of Diego to splash all over the street.

Still feeling disgusted, I began to scoop up pieces of mush and lick it. In the short three months of my second life, I've found that when you bit another vampire it leaves a scar but if you just lick another vampire's wound, the healing is quicker.

So that's what I did. I scooped up the congealing pieces of Diego and began to lick them. It was hard work and gross on so many levels I couldn't count; but it was the least I could do. Diego had stood up to The Big Man. This was the least I could do to repay him.

As I licked the pieces, it slowly sped up the rate of Diego's healing. Soon the mush started to form pieces of body; first it was just bits of bone and chunks of muscle.

Soon I started to be able to make out random finger and toe tips and the beginnings of organs.

This didn't make it any less disgusting knowing that I was licking Diego's toes and unbeating heart. At one point I just grabbed something from the wreckage and started to lick it.

I'll give you a clue what part of his anatomy it was. It was long, hard and it starts with "p" and ends in "—enis."

I screamed like a little girl and dropped Diego's dick. I'm a girl with healthy non-lesbian appetites; but honestly I hadn't thought about getting laid since my dad started beating me and making my life a living hell.

Despite everything, I began to lick the non-nasty parts of Diego. A man's body is less appealing when it's chopped up like fish bait.

Soon, he was healed enough that he could start putting himself together. In less than half an hour he'd gone from shapeless paste to a well formed and handsome vampire boy with cute dimples and hot body.

_Diego Pov_

I'd once been part of a gang. As a vampire, my human memories were dim and fuzzy. I vaguely knew that I'd come from a broken home and that I'd stolen, done drugs, drank and killed somebody and gotten caught.

Surprisingly enough, my clearest human memory was of visiting the new place at the mall's food court. Even now, I can still describe the burrito I had.

It had onions in it.

God, I fucking _love _onions. Even now, the smell of onions is like a bouquet of flowers to me.

There are no onions in my life now; just blood, more blood and the painful knowledge that that assswipe Raul is still breathing. Well, alive after a fashion.

The last thing I remember was The Big Man's fist colliding with my face; after than everything was a blur until I get a look at a beautiful face.

Bree I think her name is. Her face is looking over me with concern, it looks like. Huh, it's been a long time since anybody's been concerned about me other than myself.

"Onions," I said to her.

"What?" I'd confused her.

Come on, give me a fucking break. Part of my brain is still knitting and since becoming a vampire my mind has been as clear as a drunken wino after drinking a twenty four pack of beer and eating shoe polish to get high.

"Nothing," I quickly reply. I spent the awkward silence by putting on the clothes she'd brought me; they smelled like ass but it was better than going around in my birthday suit.

I know that this girl probably saved my life by taking me away from the other vampires. It's not only Raul that would want to kill me. Some of those vampires that Riley turned are sick fucks who have a mind for killing and raping.

Others are like Bree here; just people that nobody would care about. I see the same thing in gangs; you don't get picked because you're special or smart. You survive because you're strong and you get inside the gang because they can use you and you're weak minded.

Suddenly, I noticed something. Bree was sparkling.

"You're sparkling," I said.

Bree just looked at me like I was crazy. "Get the fuck out." She didn't believe me.

"I'm not joking," I defended. "Look!"

The first rays of sun were coming up. We newborn vampires aren't particularly observant; we've got the attention span of five year olds on sugar high.

The first rays of sun were coming in and they just barely hit Bree. It was barely noticeable, even to our eyes; but a small bit of sun hit Bree and it made her sparkle. She wasn't in pain or dying; just sparkling.

I held my own hand into the sunlight. It also faintly sparkled. I'd never admit it aloud but I thought my sparkling skin looked pretty.

Don't get any funny ideas about me. If I sparkled you'd never see me in the sunlight. But between sparkling in the sun and bursting agonizingly into flames and dying; sparkling doesn't seem like that bad an option. I'd rather not sparkle at all but I'm glad to know that sunlight doesn't kill.

In no time at all Bree and I are sparkling like Disco balls and we're just watching the rainbows come off of us like dazed kids. Actually, when we throw off rainbows, we look like waterfalls; waterfalls are manlier than Disco balls. I like that better.

We can't go back to the warehouse for two reasons; first we'd be seen. I don't like Riley but he's drilled the "keep the secret" rule into us too well. The second reason is that if Riley lied about sunlight, he might kill us to keep the secret.

Frankly, I'm not worried about Riley that much. He's just a poser; he's just a pussy whipped pawn.

The lady in charge, the mysterious one who made Riley and calls the shots for The Big Man; she's the one to worry about. The Big Man is powerful but he's just the hired muscle, a mercenary; he doesn't give a shit what happens as long as he gets paid.

Although what she's offering him, I haven't got a fucking clue.

In no time, Bree and I are hiding in a storm drain. It stinks something fierce but it doesn't burn my nose like The Big Man does. God, he smells worse than shit.

It's going to be hours before we can get back, so we do what most girls and boys do; we star awkwardly at each other and wonder why it's never as easy as in the movies.

"What's your name?" I ask her. I've heard her name thrown around but it just seems polite to ask.

"Bree," she replied. She doesn't say anything more. I see that I'm going to have to do more of the work here.

"I'm Diego."

"I know," she said.

I find myself losing hope of getting her to open up to me. I need to try a different approach; otherwise I might spend the whole day just back and forth with Bree.

I went out on a limb. "Do you like comic books?" it was a longshot but it was all I could think of with my muddled newborn brain. Just talking instead of snarling was a challenge.

"Yeah," Bree said enthusiastically. "I love comics; what about you."

"They're okay," I admit. Actually, I like comics just fine, especially _Ghost Rider_; but frankly, I'm more interested in the girl who likes comics.

"Okay," Bree talks with mock outrage. "They're better than okay; comic books have made our world what it is."

"Come on," I said to her. "Comic books are just fine but none of that is real."

"So what?" Bree said to me. "Vampires aren't real either and they don't sparkle but we're still both here."

She smiled a little sheepishly and then confessed. "You know, I'm actually glad that we sparkle."

This made me laugh; I haven't laughed in a long time. "That's easy for you to say; you're a girl."

She pouted a bit; it was cute. It wasn't a bitchy pout, just one of those cute little pouts that you see people's girlfriends do when their boyfriends get forced on a shopping trip. I've never actually had a girlfriend so seeing her act like this puts me a little bit at ease. Maybe I can score some tail before I die.

"What's that supposed to mean, _Diego_?"

I love the way she says my name, all sarcastic like. It makes me feel important and I sort of want to return the feeling.

"What I mean is that I'm a guy who likes girls. It's cultural; the only guys who like sparkles are guys enjoy other men's asses."

Bree still stood by her position. "That's not true, tons of musicians including Elvis Presley wore sparkles and they got more pussy than an old cat lady."

The ice was broke between us and we could talk a bit more freely.

"Who's your favourite superhero," Bree asked.

I knew the answer without even thinking about it. This one memory stood out easily among my fading human memories. "Ghost Rider all the way," I smiled with satisfaction. I wanted to grin but our control was tenuous; showing teeth could make Bree turn from friendly to lethal in a split second. "Nothing is cooler than a flaming skull and a piece of badass chain."

"I like Spiderman," Bree played a bit with her hair.

I laughed. "Spiderman; how could you like that homo?"

"Hey! Spiderman is awesome; he could kick ghost rider's ass any day."

I can't believe this girl. "There's no way in hell that fruitcake could take Ghost Rider on his worst day."

"Oh yes he can. With gas prices these days Ghost Rider is taking the bus."

Damn, that was a low blow. Hot chick I'd like to bang or not, I've got to stand up for my principles. "Spiderman lives in his mom's basement; he's got loser written all over him."

"Nuh-uh," Bree stuck her tongue out at me. I'm not going to lie; it looked pretty hot when she did that.

"Spiderman has the spider senses; he can sense danger before it happens and give Ghost Rider a flat tire."

We talked like that for pretty much the rest of the day. We argued about comic books, talked about our former lives and I tried to stare down her shirt whenever I thought she wasn't noticing.

I know it's not the most gentlemanly thing to do but staring at her ta-tas made me feel normal. I used to take every chance I could as a human staring at women's tits. Don't look at me that way; it wasn't the worst thing I've ever done.

The other day, I saw this woman with the greatest pair of hooters you've ever seen; all natural.

I pounced on her, tore open her throat and drank all her blood. When I was done, it looked like somebody had sliced her throat open with a chainsaw; two neat little holes is a myth.

I'm a killer, a gang banger and I think about sex all the time. I used to smoke tons of pot, I'd drink and do coke when I could afford it.

Being around Bree and talking about fun stuff like this really made me feel better. I suddenly felt lighter when I was talking with her; it was a feeling that I'd never felt before as either a vampire or a human.

It wasn't happily that we eventually left the sewer and got back to the warehouse

As we walked back, I said to Bree. "Do you want to escape?"

She looked at me stunned. "Escape?"

"Yeah," I whispered as we walked back to base. "We're the only ones who know that sun isn't deadly. Tomorrow we can leave together and never look back."

Bree thought about it, but for me the answer was obvious. My human life had been a prison of poverty and a broken home. I was just one of seven children by a rotten no good whore of a mom.

As a vampire though, I had an opportunity. I could live forever with Bree at my side; even if she and I didn't work out I could have any girl I wanted.

"Sure," she said. "But can we take somebody else with us."

I instantly got mad. Was there another man she was seeing? I knew she liked to hang around Freaky Fred but I never knew.

I nearly lost control except she looked at me with this doe eyed expression and bared her neck to me; that put the collar on the beast inside me. Something about her submissive posture like that made me want to be less aggressive. That and she pushed out her chest to show off her hooters; a man who's laid often is a man who's peaceful, happy and unlikely to fight.

I was putty in her hands and it both thrilled and scared me.

Bree Tanner and me were going to escape; one way or another.

_Third Person POV_

In the roof above the warehouse, the security cameras were working when nothing else was. Fifty years ago this factory had been abandoned. Located in an industrial district of Seattle, it was the perfect base for Victoria and her army.

In her chair, Victoria sat like a red haired big cat, confident and assured. In the name of her vendetta, no number of lives lost was too great a sacrifice. Behind her, her flame red hair flowed to her waist like a cape.

As it caught the ugly light of a single flickering florescent light, Victoria's hair threw off stunning and mind boggling patterns like fine veins of gem sparkling in a rock wall.

_Sching_—came a sound from behind Victoria's chair.

_Sching_

In the room with Victoria, a man was taking a Katana; putting it into a sheath and then rapidly drawing out over and over again. Evidently the "man" fancied himself a modern day samurai.

He wore a nice, bluish suit and bowler hat; but Simon Ferenczy was no man in the conventional sense. From the flaring nostrils on his bat like snout to his pointed teeth and large pores; he looked like something crawled out of a hole in the mud.

The British wamphyri happily played with the katana, only recently having discovered the pleasure of bisecting his prey before eating it.

Without warning, the omnipresent cat-boy Schrodinger materialized from the ether. "Frau Victoria," he happily called, "the boy und girl Unstet have returned."

Victoria smiled warmly at Schrodinger. "Thank you, _kätzchen_," before scooping him up and putting him in her lap.

"I could have told you that," came Simon Ferenczy's ever changing British accent in between strokes of the sword.

_Sching_

"I can read their minds as easily as a children's book."

_Sching_

Simon smiled a most unpleasant smile. "I can tell that the fit bird has plans of escape."

As Simon swung his sword out again, this time he lunged and thrust the blade towards Schrodinger's neck. The violent vampire loved to torment Schrodinger; the cat boy's cuteness actually made him horny and violent in one abysmal package.

There was a shower of sparks as something deflected Simon's sword from cutting off Schrodinger's head.

Victoria had used her hand to block the razor sharp steel. She was oddly protective of Schrodinger and it infuriated Simon to no end.

Victoria held up a finger and gently scolded Simon. "Don't touch the kitty, Simon."

He growled but said nothing, merely sheathing his sword for the time being; he was no longer in the mood to play samurai.

In the corner of the room stood the Captain. The massive, stoic werewolf made no notice of Victoria, Simon or Schrodinger. He did his work and that was as far as it went in these parts.

Attempting to use food to take his mind off of his anger, Simon went over to a fairly intact mini-fridge and began to put together a sandwich.

From his safe place in Victoria's lap, Schrodinger yelled to Simon. "_Sie mussen eine Stulle den Hauptsturmführer machen_."

Simon wished that he didn't speak German, because then he wouldn't have to make the Captain a sandwich.

"If the big Jerry wants a sandwich, let him make it for himself."

Simon was just about to slice the salami when he noticed the Captain looming over him and looking rather menacing.

Simon may have been evil as hell but he wasn't suicidal. He would make the captain a sandwich.

Victoria watched the newborns on the gritty black and white monitors. Riley ran among them like an underpaid elementary school teacher.

As Simon handed the Captain the greasy and possibly mouldy sandwich, he too looked at the monitor. The sight of Riley made him want to laugh.

As if picking up on his thought, Victoria tilted her head a bit towards Simon. "Can you tell what he's thinking?"

Simon's throaty reply came. "The ponce thinks of nothing but making you happy." Simon peeled apart his thick lips and ran a forked tongue over them that left a trail of snail like slime. "Even when you made him watch us fuck, he only blamed himself."

Victoria gave a sideways smirk. It really amazed her how far Riley would go her far; as far as she had once gone for James.

James and Victoria never really had a relationship which could have been called healthy. As far as James had been concerned, Victoria had never been more than an easy lay and a compliant mind. Victoria though the exact same of Riley.

A while back, he'd lost a whole batch of potential newborns when he drank too deeply and killed the potential recruits. As punishment, she'd performed coitus with the grotesque wamphyri.

Victoria spoke fondly. "Riley learned his lesson."

As far as lovers went, Riley was only mediocre.

Simon wasn't much better, but he could keep it hard literally for weeks on end. Victoria enjoyed how he clawed, bit and thrusted in a way that would leave most women bleeding and torn in delicate places. Luckily, her stone vagina had nothing to fear from Simon's demon dick.

Simon was disgusting and depraved, but Victoria actually found that she enjoyed being able to command such an obviously amoral creature.

Her deal with the Nazis was a simple one. They gave her information about the Cullen's abilities, numbers and tactics and in return she would hand over any talented vampires the way of Millennium.

Dok wanted samples for his vampire research; the Dutchman Joham wanted the same thing. However it was Joham who was the most interested in the Cullens.

For the Dutch Unstet, seeing the Cullens in action would give him data for his grand experiment; the ultimate goal of this was to see Alucard surpassed. Much as a scientist must understand a microorganism before going up to multicellular life, Joham endeavoured to understand the lesser vampires before understanding the great ones.

It was a working relationship and Victoria found that she enjoyed working for them. Having been made a vampire by the serial killing Askoldov brothers; the sadist East European Jewish vampires had left Victoria's mind a fertile field for the seed of anti-Semitism.

Setting down Schrodinger on the floor like a regular housecat, Victoria turned to the Captain, who was just finishing his sandwich.

"Kill the one Diego; leave the girl." She issued with a voice of steel. Imperceptibly, the Captain gave Victoria the slightest of nods.

She continued. "We strike out tomorrow; we'll take Diego from the group and kill him."

Again, the Captain nodded slightly.

Simon Ferenczy looked on with jealousy of the woman who used him for his body. Never once had the Captain done his bidding, even though he'd served Millennium as a professional thief for ages and ages.

Turning away from both the Captain and Simon, Victoria threw Schrodinger a little cloth mouse and looked again at the milling newborns on the security monitor.

The figures fought, bickered and almost acted like people at times. None of them had a clue that by tomorrow they'd all be killed.

Tomorrow, the short second life and the shorter second lives of many others would come to an end.

* * *

That's all folks! Next time there will be actual fighting and killing. This chapter is another two parter and I'm sorry for those who wanted a straight fight. I just wrote this thing and it grew too big. It just went away with me.

Personally, Bree and Diego are way more fun to work with than Bella and Edward because Bree and Diego are the tragic couple. They were the ones who were shot down despite their best efforts; theirs is a tale that needs to be told. It will not end happily.

I'd like to thank all my reviewers and advise you to read _Flower of War_ by Shallowswan if you love Hellsing and Deathnote. She'll have you entertained for hours.

Or if you like pure Deathnote, just read _Law of Detachment_ by Blacksand1; another worthy read.

Ta

Master of the Boot


	37. The Battle of the Newborns

The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair

Chapter 37: Battle of the Newborns

Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing or Twilight, Zohall Mercer is the property of EZB and I only own Simon Ferenczy. Also this chapter is mean to be a little experiment designed to replicate the opening sequence of the Hellsing OVA's. I hope you enjoy and let's pray that this experiment works.

* * *

Diego POV:

Pain. That was the first thing that I felt. There I was, an all-powerful vampire; a creature of the night and I was being thrown to the ground screaming and kicking like an unwanted baby.

It was all going great; Bree and I were going to escape. The fucking newborn vampires are as easy to herd as cats. There was no way that anyone could have caught wind of our plan, even that mysterious bitch who's supposed to be in charge of this.

Riley came into the warehouse and told us to go outside because today was the day of the assault; that mysterious, "special" day when we'd be able to walk in the fucking sunlight. Bree and I had already figured out that was a lie. All we did in sun was sparkle.

Bree and I could have gotten out. It was only supposed to have been her, me and one other. A guy named freaky Fred. We called him that because as soon as you went near him you wanted to blow chunks all over the floor. Somehow Bree became attached to that freak. He protected her somehow.

Protected, yeah right; I protected her. Fred didn't stand up to The Big Man like I did.

I was jealous of Fred. As childish as it sounds, it felt almost like he was trying to move in on my girl. Me and Bree hadn't official called each other boyfriend and girlfriend but we were all each other had in the world and to be honest, that was good enough for me.

Bree never deserved this life. She's not like me. She never did anything bad except try to run away from an asshole father.

Maybe I do love Bree, because I was going to let Fred come along with us as long as he behaved and kept his hands to himself.

Everything was perfect; the three of us were going to escape. Then everything went to shit.

The three of us were lagging behind the group ready to make a break for it as we were being lead out of the warehouse at an hour before sunrise.

Like the newborns we were, our self-control was like glass. Just the act of running made us feel free and wild, like dogs. After being cooped up in that warehouse we were all so glad to be allowed to run. And fuck, could we ever run.

I ran so fast that I wandered into the middle of the group and lost sight of both Bree and Freaky Fred.

That was when The Big Man grabbed me.

He just came out of the darkness like a phantom. He grabbed me by the throat and drove his thumb into my throat, punching a hole in it with the pressure.

Mute and thrashing like a fish out of water. He grabbed me and took me somewhere.

Another ass end of the city crack house; more of the same for me.

No matter how much I struggled, I couldn't shake off The Big Man. As I thrashed, he pulled his thumb out of my torn throat and started to rip nerves out of the side of my spine.

I dropped out of school but I remember all the little drawing of the human spine with the nerves coming out. Peri-peri-peripheral nerves; that's what they were called!

I screamed bloody murder as soon as my throat healed.

All the while, The Big Man just looked at me with that same look of blank apathy.

As he dropped me, I sprang at him. Him tearing out my nerves had made me clumsy but I still had my strength and my teeth.

Bouncing off the floor like a rubber ball, I lunged at the big man and dug my teeth into his thigh.

God, I'd never been so desperate in my first or second life. His flesh was breaking off pieces of my teeth but I wasn't about to let him off.

Like broken glass, the sharp ends of my teeth sunk into the meat of his thigh and I tore into it like a shark.

I was so focused on attacking him, clawing on him, biting him, pissing on him if I could that I didn't even feel as he grabbed my hair and pulled me off with the chunk of meat in my mouth.

I was this close to clamping down my teeth on his nuts; I should have bitten his dick off.

Again, I felt those indestructible fingers grab my neck, just under the jaw like I saw a friend handle a snake once in a past life.

I snarled, roared and spitted at him. I kicked him in the leg and groin; now that finally got his attention.

He had irritation written all over his features. Good, some down from your high horse and eat some shit with the rest of us, you mute cocksucker.

Oh I'd riled him something good.

Using some kind of fancy karate move or something, he grabbed me by the hair and flipped me into my back.

I hissed in pain as he twisted my hair as hard as he could.

I just barely made out the look of hate on his face as he raised his boot and slammed it on my chest. He kept doing that, stomping on my chest like my ribs were an Easter egg he was trying to crack.

_Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!_

His foot just kept coming down fast and hard don my chest while he grabbed my hair.

Suddenly, I heard a voice call out and stop the punishment. It was a new voice, one I'd never heard before.

"Captain, 'allo; Mr. Large Jerry. Please leave something for Riley to chew on. That boy is no match for you."

It was different from all the other vampire voices I'd heard, but it wasn't exactly a human voice.

This thing, this British thing was standing in the burning light of an oil drum. The smell of him alone made me want to puke. The British thing with his posh accent and nice suit smelled like rotting garbage or a corpse in a dumpster in summer.

As his slitted eyes watched me and his bat's ears twitched, I put a hand to my nose because he fucking stunk and I didn't care if he knew it.

The Britsh thing smiled from under his bowler hat. Damn, the guy had teeth worse than a Rottweiler. The pores in his skin were the size of bullet holes and his clawed hands were holding a pair of desert Eagle handguns. He stopped to use one of the gun barrels to wipe the gunk from the corner of one twitching eye.

Jesus, the guy looked like the rape baby Winston Churchill and a giant leach.

Acting on instinct, I began to growl at both the Leech man and The Big Man. Although I was slowly backing away from The Big Man because I knew he could kick my ass and Bree needed me.

I was stepping back, The Big Man and King Leach weren't trying to follow me but I bumped into something. I roared like a starving lion and swung a fist around. The concrete crumbled under my hand like dry toast but there was nothing there.

Something bumped into me from behind and freaked the fuck out of me. I hated being sneaked up as a human and I hated it ten million times more as a vampire.

I spun around like Taz from Loony Toons and started hitting everything near me, but there was nothing there to hit. Big Man and British Leach were just standing back, watching me spin around like a dog with a dog whistle going off somewhere. British guy laughed while The Big Man just stared at me like I was a piece of shit.

I finally managed to slow the fuck down; I was so embarrassed. To these bastards I was nothing more than a dog. I hated that! I wanted to jump over there and rip their fucking faces off for laughing at me. I didn't know how strong British Leach was but I knew I couldn't take the Big Man.

Then I heard this high squeaky voice like a cartoon cat. "Guten abend, Herr Diego . . . or Senor. I don't speak any Spanish vords."

I looked up with my mouth open wide enough to catch flies. Sitting up there on a ruined fire escape was a boy—a fucking boy in a Hitler youth uniform with goddamn cat ears. If I wasn't a vampire I was sure that I'd have to be high to see that shit.

I tried to talk, to say something but all that came out of my mouth was more growling. I was a damn mute. When the Nazi kid's ears twitched like a real cat's, I growled even louder.

Then the damndest thing happened, he disappeared; vanished into thin air. I could even see the air move into the spot where he was standing.

Before I knew it, the cat boy was standing right in front of me. I tried to pounce on him but he was gone again with that damn teleportation trick.

He did it again; behind me, in front of me, to the left, right, up down—he was everywhere and nowhere. I could barely keep up.

As the little prick hopped around he talked, taunted me.

"I am Varrant Officer Schrodinger of the Leztes Battalion und du . . . frankly I don't need to know you," the arrogant little asshole began to laugh and Leach man joined in. Even the silent Big Man just looked like he was enjoying the show.

Footsteps. They set me off and I spun around and began to growl again. I was like a coyote, pure instinct and teeth.

Riley was coming. Unlike the British Leach, The Big Man and the Cat Boy Riley looked nervous and submissive. He was just begging for someone to kill him right now and his submissive posture was making me feel like doing the job. He'd deserve it after what he'd done to all those kids; snatching them and turning them into vampires. If I had a chance I would have made him squeal.

I was about to pounce on Riley when the Big Man stepped in front of him. All thoughts of attacking Riley left my head and I backed up.

My head was swimming and inside of me the rational Diego was fighting to be heard over the burning in my throat and the need to rip flesh. I was desperately trying to find a way to escape but all the exits were blocked. Only one thing kept me from doing something stupid like bolting and that was Bree.

I thought of her, alone and unprotected. Bullshit; she was a fucking vampire. She could take care of herself.

But then she wasn't alone, she was with _Fred_. The thought of it made me want to go critical. I had to find her and make her mine.

The Cat Boy spoke to me again, this time from The Big Man's shoulder like some fucked up parrot.

"So Diego, are you ready to die?" he asked in that sickeningly cheerful voice.

"What?" I ground out, my voice was nothing but a gravely whisper.

Schrodinger vanished and reappeared hanging from a broken light fixture on the ceiling. "You tried to escape, Herr Diego." His voice and expression became dead serious. "You disobeyed us, Diego. You tried to run."

The bastard teleported again and for the first time I felt like he was the cat and I was the mouse.

"You thought that there would be another life out there," he hissed just like a fucking cat. "Führer befiehl, wir folgen dir. Fuhrer lead, ve follow you. No vone disobeys or leaves."

The Leach spoke next. His eyes glowed and I felt something wrap around my brain like he was hypnotizing me. I couldn't move or blink. Inside me, the monster was screaming for blood and the man in me was wishing I could wake up from this nightmare.

"Do you know life without us?" the Leach asked me, waving his gun for emphasis.

"I said do you know life without us?" he called out.

I tried to remember what life was like before this, but frankly I couldn't. My human life was getting blurrier and blurrier. I couldn't remember my family, if I had a family or anything else. It was like a dream slipping through my fingers.

"NO!" screamed the Leach, his bowler hat nearly falling off his oval shaped head. "Because it doesn't exist!" He laughed and a forked tongue licked his lips. It was like he was reading my mind. "You want reality? We are reality!"

I fought the spell that the Leach was putting on me, but I was helpless. I was strong enough to crush rocks in my hands and tear steel like paper but one Leach had me under his spell like a scared girl.

The Big Man said nothing. He just glared at me like I'd pissed him off. I know he wanted to kill me, I just knew it.

"You are our dog, Diego!" hissed Schro. "Ve say vhen the killing is done. Ve say vhen it's over!"

Have you ever been in a position where you knew you couldn't win? Have you ever just wanted to roll over and die? Where you know you can't win and nobody is coming to save you? This was it. There was no sunset happy ending for me.

Do you have any idea at all what it's like to sit there and watch your dreams come to nothing and to see all your hopes die?

I barely even heard the Leach man laugh at Riley. "I wanted the Captain to kill this little wop, but I like this better."

Schrodinger laughed and appeared next to me. The Leach's spell kept me from reaching out and pulling off the fucker's head. I caught his scent as he leaned in right to my face. He smelled like a dead cat and a live one at the same time. I fucking hated that stink!

"So you kill Riley und then ve kill you, Diego! Isn't it great?" He fluttered those damn eyelashes like a Disney princess.

My head was spinning. Even the prospect of killing Riley didn't do anything for me. All I could think of was Bree.

She was going off to get killed or worse, to elope with that Freaky Fred.

Mostly I was mad. Mad at myself for getting myself into this position, mad at Riley for turning me into a freak of nature, mad at The Big Man and his little Nazi but buddy and most of all I was mad that I couldn't be the man that Bree needed.

I was just some coke sniffing, gang banging little puke and that was all I'd ever been and all that I ever would be.

I felt something inside me snap. Something just broke. Instantly, I took the invisible hand that was wrapped around my brain and broke its grip.

I stood up tall and looked The Big Man in the eye. I roared at him. I felt like I had the strength of Hercules. If I died then I was going to take them all with me.

Riley cowered like a little pussy and the Leach man raised his guns in panic. Whatever voodoo he'd worked on me wasn't working anymore.

Fucking Schro was giggling like a little girl. Christ, in those fucking short shorts he may have as well been a girl. "Ha! That's the spirit, Herr Diego. As ve say in Deutschland, harden the fuck up!"

"**I'LL KILL YOU ALL!**" I screamed at everyone with all I had. I wasn't going to leave anything left after this. If I survived I was going to keep on killing until I was killed or I got what I wanted.

My torn nerves sent pain up my back but I was beyond giving a shit. The damage was nothing.

I wasn't just going to kill Riley, I was going to fucking brutalize him. I'd make him wash my dirty underwear with his tongue before I killed him. He'd clean where my balls had been and then thank me before I burned his ass to cinders.

Schro hissed gleefully, as if all this shit was about to give him an orgasm. "Ja! You vill, Diego! Fuck each other!"

I was rearing to kill Riley and whoever else I could before I got taken down. The only thing that stopped me was this beautiful, angelic voice.

A vampire woman with long red hair and a cat's grace had appeared in all the confusion. She stood behind Riley and put a hand on his shoulder. "I believe in you, Riley," she said. "You can do this."

"Ah, Victoria, sweet lady; welcome to tonight's entertainment," said the Leach man. I could tell he was still afraid of me. He had every reason to be.

So this was Victoria, the no good bitch whore who ran this whole operation. I knew what I had to do.

"**I'M GOING TO MURDER YOU, BITCH!**" my eyes burned like the fires of hell and there were a million voices in my head screaming for blood.

Right then, a change came over Riley. It was like something inside him snapped too. He stopped acting like a little pussy and he stepped forward.

I could see it; the fear, hesitation and weakness that I'd always seen in him was gone. He was ready to kill, mentally; but I had more experience with killing than him.

"Get back, Victoria," said Riley.

I couldn't wait anymore. I charged at Riley with full speed, howling like a demon. The building shook as we collided.

Third Person POV:

_The building shakes as Riley and Diego clash. Plaster falls from the ceiling and the already sketchy lights flicker. _

_Schrodinger claps his hands gleefully at the death and murder taking place before him. _

_There is noise like rocks being crushed and then a noise that sounds horribly like the screech of metal being torn apart. _

_All we see of the fight are shadows, but one figure is torn apart and undone. _

_The image shifts to Simon Ferenczy the Wamphyri with a can of petrol. He is seen throwing fuel onto the remains of the downed vampire. _

_Almost as an afterthought, the Captain throws a burning match onto the mess left behind. _

_As the defeated vampire burns, some of the burning gasoline leaks away and starts to form words. _

_Those flaming words read as such: _

_The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair_

_The words then appear on a black background with the Hellsing Logo behind them. _

* * *

_Forks, Washington, the meadow_

Bella Swan sat on the grass in the high mountain pass. She'd been taken up her by her boyfriend in the hopes that he could appease her desire to watch the battle and at the same time keep her a reasonably safe distance from where the thick of the fighting would be.

Well, as hard as Edward tried to protect her, he really had no idea how far she'd go to throw herself into the line of fire.

It was brisk up her high in the Olympian mountains and Bella needed to wear a coat in order to keep herself warm. The three figures surrounding her though had no such need.

Sitting right next to her, dressed in a long black trench coat was the patriarch of the Cullen Family, Carlisle. Carlisle's manner was sombre. On his finger he wore a ring with the Cullen family crest on it. Around his neck hung a simple wooden cross and a silver pentagram with the design of a goat's head in the center.

Part of the price he paid for living in small towns was that he was forced not only to conceal that he was a vampire but that he was a Satanist and that he and his wife Esme were swingers. Life was hard enough in high school for his kids as it was.

Nearby stood the Hellsing sword fighter Zohall Mercer. The normally cheerful and chipper man was grim and focused. His gun was in his left hand and in his right hand he held a massive straight sword with a curved handle; similar in design to a Katana.

The young man bounced back and forth, using dizzying acrobatics that Bella would never even dream of trying under the influence of any amount of drugs and alcohol. Not normally the jealous type; the mousy wallflower felt the green eyed monster touch her as the blonde swordsman did backflips with such an enormous sword.

The final member of the troika was one Seras Victoria; fledgling of Alucard and servant of the Hellsing order of Protestant Knights. Ready for battle, her shirt was unbuttoned, leaving her massive breasts exposed except for a black bra that showed off her tattoos of power nicely.

The tattoos across her love globes glowed faintly in the pre-dawn darkness. She was ready to power up and vamp out; the call of battle was reaching her ears.

Seras stared off into the sky distractedly. Every so often she's flick out her long tongue as if tasting the air. She could sense the morning coming; sunlight was her enemy but killing was her natural inclination. It was written into her very genes of darkness to be as bloody as possible; to be violent beyond the inclination of any natural creature of desire.

It was simply that she'd be putting her violent tendencies towards nobler purposes; using them to defend as much as to destroy.

The fight was due to start at any moment. Alice tried to give them an exact time but such a thing proved impossible for her. The presence of the wolves combined with the indecisiveness of Victoria meant that for now they'd just have to wait.

For the longest time, Bella had taken pride in her patience. At least she saw herself as a patient person. Now thought the wait was killing her.

Well, it wasn't like she wanted a murderous army of newborn vampires to charge into this and try to waste her precious fiancé Edward.

It was just that she wished this damn thing would be over with once and for all so that she could begin her happy marriage with the man of her dreams. Some days it felt like the whole world was trying to work against her happiness and wishes.

Hoping to while away the crushingly long minutes, she turned to her future father in law and asked him. "So, what's it like being a vampire, Carlisle?"

The Cullen father smiled. "It's very boring actually," he said with a small chuckle. "The years seem to drag on after a time and the only thing one can do is try either get married or get a hobby."

Bella smiled back a bit at him but otherwise drew up blanks for further conversation topics.

Luckily, Carlisle filled in the blanks for her. "Bella, I hope you understand that being a vampire will not be easy. Even if we do win today, there will be further challenges down the road, further anguish and suffering."

Carlisle ran a hand through his blonde hair and for the first time looked his age of over three hundred years. "Marriage itself is not easy. I've made so many mistakes and unwittingly caused so much anguish for my family and wife that at time I can't even live with myself."

In the background, Zohall stared down the blade of his sword as if examining some indescribably property of the steel. Indeed, the blade seemed to glimmer with a green light similar to that emanating from the man's eyes. Or it may have been a trick of the light.

Carlisle continued to spill to Bella, perhaps voicing the fears and weaknesses which he daren't reveal to his family for the irrational phobia that they might think less of him. "My greatest fear, if you can believe it is becoming old."

This elicited weird looks from both Bella and Seras. The man was born in the sixteen forties for fuck's sake

The Cullen pappy saw their looks and elaborated. "What I mean is old spiritually. I keep seeing myself as a bitter old man, tough as dried meat and unkind to say the least."

It was clear that neither Zohall, Seras nor Bella understood what Carlisle was feeling so he kept it short. "Look, all you are young; don't limit yourselves."

At that exact moment, the two way radio that Zohall was carrying squawked. Attentive as ever, the young swordsman grabbed his radio and spoke the special code into it. "This is Splatter Master, over."

"_I hear you Splatter Master, this is Rebel Yell. Crystal Ball has given the green light, Splatter Master, over." _Rebel Yell and Crystal Ball were the code names assigned to Jasper and Alice. And according to wee little Alice, the time to fight was now.

Nodding grimly, Zohall hit the button and spoke over all frequencies. "This is Splatter Master; Crystal Ball has given the green light."

There was a brief but heavy pause in the air as the moment of justice had arrived. There was no more time to be hesitant or contemplative. The time now had come to act, to fight and kill; it was time to blaze a trail of destruction the likes of which had not been seen since Rommel's armies had burned a path through North Africa.

"Operation: Guns of the Patriots is a go. I repeat, operation: Guns of the Patriots is a go. May the force be with you always."

Throwing aside his radio, Zohall grabbed onto his chest and with one move, threw off his long trench coat. He stood before Bella with sword and gun, bare chested like the hero of some German myth of blood and iron.

"Oi, Miss Swan," Seras's British lit distracted Bella from eyeing the handsome denizen of the former Raccoon City.

Seras stood over Bella with a small razor blade in between her fingers. Bella blanched and felt a bit ill at what Seras was about to do but she knew that this was all part of the price she was paying to be a part of this fight.

"Don't back out on us now, girl," Seras said sternly. The girl wanted to be part of the fight, but Seras knew that she really had no idea what that entailed. She'd been sheltered for so long; her life experience was almost the total opposite of what Seras's had been.

In a way, Seras pitied the girl. She obviously couldn't handle the heat; she really needed to stay away from the fireplace.

The girl gasped a bit as Seras took the razor blade and ran it along her palm. For a second there was nothing, then that thin line in the skin began to weep red. Seras's eyes instantly lit up. She was looking like a dog that smelled food.

Turning Bella's hand downwards, Sears let the blood drip from the teen's hand while she cupped her own.

Blood drops fell into Seras hands like water. When enough had fallen in, Seras held the cupped blood up to her face and snorted it up her nose like a drug.

The virgin blood went straight to the brain. The effect was instantaneous. Seras's eyes shot open, now a shade of blood red with cat like slit pupils. Before she was operating at a hundred percent, now she was overdriving it to two hundred percent.

Fangs fully extended, Seras looked at Carlisle and Zohall warily, as if they may attack. Her breathing was heavy and her hands were twitching. She was in full battle mode. "Let's fucking come and have I," she growled.

Taking that as his cue, Zohall jumped onto Seras back and drove his sword into her shoulder.

She hissed in pain but made no attempt to throw him off.

"Charge!" he yelled.

Leaping off beyond the trees in a single bound, Seras went sailing with the human warrior on her back. She let off a very bird like caw of fury before vanishing from sight.

Only Carlisle and Bella were left, but not for long.

Patting something under his coat, he zipped off into the coming madness. The curtain of the theater of death was about to open and now this one, insignificant girl had front row tickets to the carnage.

* * *

Bree Tanner was lost and afraid, no doubt about that. During the initial rush, she's lost track of Diego and with every fibre of her being she wished that he was alright. The whole trip from the old abandoned warehouse seemed like a sensory blur; she couldn't remember a thing.

Actually, she could remember one thing though—feeding. Riley had led the newborns to feed on a ferry full of humans. The results had been pure chaos. The inside of the ferry looked like a truck full of ground beef exploded. The weak humans had never stood a chance.

It takes about fifteen square pounds of pressure to crack a human skull; the newborns had been packing enough pressure to crush steel and aluminum.

As guilty as she felt about it, feeding on all those humans felt great for Bree. Something about ripping heads off and drinking from the neck stumps really gave Bree a sense of control that in every other way was totally lacking in her life.

She wasn't the strongest or the most aggressive of the vamps, and for that she was grateful to have stayed near Freaky Fred. Fred had stuck beside her during the run, somehow. Her natural talent of causing disgust in others kept her safe and for that she was happy.

Yet she couldn't get the worry feeling out of her gut. It made her nervous and twitchy. She couldn't stop wringing her hands and desperately she wanted to keep running and running and never stop.

After ditching the ferry and sinking it, the newborns were lead into the Olympic mountain range for that fictional day where the sun wouldn't make them burn.

Bree really didn't notice it because her condition largely kept operating on a more or less instinctual level, but Riley was different.

He'd vanished and appeared right before the ferry feeding. Riley's manner was different; he was confident now, and his attitude was much colder.

Whereas before he'd been like an overwhelmed babysitter, he was now like an authoritarian father from hell. If the newborns got out of line, he didn't need the Big Man anymore to help him out.

Riley surveyed the newborn army. It mattered not how many were slain or how many might make it out alive. What was truly important was that victoria was allowed to achieve her revenge. When all this was over, Riley would personally take the surviving newborns and kill them all.

The only ones who were meant to be spared were those with some kind of conceivable talent. Those ones were to be dismembered and shipped off to . . . those people. Millennium, the last freak show of the Second World War. The Last Battalion of the Third Reich, planning their next move in secrecy.

The thought of them made Riley's hair stand up. Victoria seemed to trust them. Hell, she seemed to be more at ease with them than she was with him.

He cast aside that thought. No, Victoria loved him. He'd proven his love to her when he made his first kill in the early hours of dawn. There was no doubt in his mind now that she surely loved him. She'd even demonstrated her love to him when he'd walked away from the burning embers of the annoying kid |Diego.

The boy had been a thorn in his side for who knew how long, but Riley just never had the stomach to do anything about it. Well, he'd finally grown a pair; he was a man now, and there was much more killing to be had.

Some of the newborns tried to deviate from the path. After Riley tore the eyes from their heads, the rest of them weren't so eager anymore to test his authority; in fact he was rather enjoying it. The one newborn, Freaky Fred was especially fun to torment. With that damn ability of his, he'd always made Riley feel sick; and he shouldn't have felt sick since he stopped being human.

It was fun to see that little slip of a girl, Bree try to help Fred pick up his eyes off the ground. Riley didn't give them any time. He tore a hunk of flesh off of Bree's side with his teeth and growled at the two of them to press on.

Riley smelled it, they all did. The scent of the girl was there; stale but still present. They all caught the scent and in the instinct addled newborn vampire brains, all of them wanted the reward that would come to the one that killed the girl.

Riley couldn't help but smile ironically at the fact that only Victoria could claim that little human bitch. The newborns were just the distraction.

Like the Meatloaf song says: lives are truly meaningless and we are busy being blessed with all we can take and pocket.

Riley began to urge the newborns further and faster. He was like a cowboy herding cattle but with much greater difficulty than any rancher ever had. For one thing, these cows bit back and were rowdy as rabid tigers.

The newborns charged forward at just under the speed of sound. Anything in their path was torn down. Trees were uprooted, plants were trampled. One stray deer was splattered into oblivion by the moving mass of stone flesh. The poor animal never stood a chance.

The army of newborns was like a force of nature. Nothing standing against them could hold. They were the battering ram that could smash through all obstacles and tear down any door or wall.

Then, before the army, in a field full of flowers which were just starting to unfurl their petals in the cool, weak morning sun stood the mate of the human bitch. There he was with his copper hair and nice clothes; totally non-threatening to the tidal wave of murderous fury that was bearing down on him.

Then quite to the shock of anybody with rational thought, Edward went and charged at the newborn army with full speed. This caused the newborns to increase their own speed and Riley to wonder what the hell this bastard was playing at. It was like he wanted to die.

Edward charged the newborns, legs turning into a blur and face set into an expression of determination. This was like baseball if baseball had been played by the Romans. All he had to do was keep his head straight on his shoulders and remember all that he learned in practice.

Then right before he could be totally crushed by that wall of furious marble flesh like an ant, Edward thrust his legs under his body and thrust outward, pushing himself backwards and creating a huge crater in the earth.

The newborns didn't care; they ran right through the deep crater that Edward created with the ease of a trench breaching tank.

Grasping hands reached for Edward, some of which only misses ripping off his face by millimeters. Furiously, he backpedalled in an effort to escape the current. As he turned around and began to run forwards, a few stray teeth tore strips of fabric off his shirt.

This was close, but he didn't volunteer for the most dangerous role in this plan without informed consent.

Like clockwork, Edward ran and the newborns followed. It was a plan lifted from the strategy books of the Mongol Empire. The fastest moving unit of the army would charge the enemy lines while firing arrows. At the last second they'd spin around and run away, making the enemy make chase.

The enemy would chase and then be slaughtered by the heavy Mongol troops. Their strategy was the same here.

Yet as Edward was running, he saw the strangest thing. There in the middle of his and Bella's meadow was a fake plastic bush.

Why the hell hadn't he noticed it before?

Riley ran at the back of the group. Even the stragglers like Fred and Bree were caught up in the bloodlust of the change. Yet it too struck him odd that there'd be a fake plastic bush in the meadow.

As Edward ran past the bush, a giant fist came out of the bush and punched him right in the head. As Edward went flying to the side and the fist retracted, Riley read the inscription on the white glove that the mystery person was wearing.

"_Sleep with Dead_"

At that instant, empty beer cans and bayonets started flying from the bush. The newborns were suddenly stopped by a wall of bayonets. There were sickening thuds as the indestructible bayonets imbedded themselves in the stone flesh of the vampires.

Some of the newborns tripped and fell, becoming trampled by their uncaring, blood crazy cousins. Still, the speed of the newborns had been greatly diminished.

That was when the plastic bush exploded and a man shot out; flying high into the sky like a bird of prey on drugs.

Riley stopped dead in his tracks. He had no idea . . . who the fuck this guy was!

For a second, the giant man with blond hair and priest's outfit hovered in the sky, caught between his own momentum and the bonds of gravity.

As he sailed gracefully in the brightening dawn sky, the flying Scottish Giant took two giant blades from his coat and slid the edges together, creating a shower of blue sparks.

Riley just stood flabbergasted. Who the fuck was this? This guy was so crazy looking that at the loony bin they certified him sane just to get rid of him.

The warrior priest Alexander Anderson hit the ground with the grace of a falling meteorite. His impact squashed one newborn flat and drove its head into its knees. Standing on the squishy pile of broken marble, he crowed a bible passage in full blooded lunacy.

"_Go up, my warriors, against the land of Merathaim and against the people of Pekod. Yes, march against Babylon, the land of rebels, a land that I will judge! Pursue, kill, and completely destroy them, as I have commanded you," says the LORD. "Let the battle cry be heard in the land, a shout of great destruction"._

Grinning with homicidal glee, Anderson was filled with humble, psychotic pleasure as the newborns growled at him. Good, he was tired of fighting vampires who knew his name and fled him. It was time for some neophyte vampires to know why he'd gotten the reputation he had.

"Prepare fer the ultimate Catholic fightin' manoeuvres!" Anderson shouted like a fan at a football game. Then he pulled out a phone from his pocket and shouted into it. "Ah just wish tha' HEINKEL AN' YUMIE were here with meh!"

Ah, guilt trip; Anderson was a master of them. A lifetime of raising children had given Anderson master of that. But there was no time now for shaming his companions for not coming on this cockamamie, half brained scheme which was totally unsanctioned by Iscariot authority; Anderson was on a mission from God and he's spent all night squatting inside a plastic bush drinking beer and praying to Jesus.

Anderson ran at the newborns, screaming at the top of his lungs. The newborns in return roared at him like angry lions.

Edward could only watch in amazement as Anderson slammed into the oncoming tidal wave of newborns like a whale falling into the sea.

Like the whale to the sea, Anderson was in his element. He'd fought newborn Unstet before but never in this number; he was going to enjoy this new experience.

With a wide sweep of one bayonet, he hacked off a head and two arms. With a slice of his other bayonet, he cut a great big Unstet right in half. The bisected vampire swiped Anderson as it flew through the air and tore off half of his face.

Anderson's teeth snapped as half of his fact literally grew back. He began to spin like a whirling dervish to dislodge the newborns who'd jumped onto his back and were digging chunks of flesh from his back.

Anderson threw his weight backwards and flattened the vampires on his back. Several vampires tried to jump on top of him but they flew back as Anderson pulled his legs and squatted into a might jump.

One newborn threw himself at Anderson's throat, eyeing the thick neck and juicy arteries. Though its brain was receiving mixed signals from this creature's slow heartbeat and inhuman smell, the newborn was really too stupid to recognize that Anderson had the power to kill him.

Suddenly, white teeth filled the newborn's vision as Anderson lunged forward and sank his teeth into the newborn's eye.

Anderson was snorting like an enraged bull elephant as he did his best to bite through that newborn's head like a nut shell.

The newborn howled in pain as the white teeth crushed the invulnerable marble flesh and titanium bone; Anderson's stinking breath stinging the Unstet's nose.

Suddenly, the unfortunate vampire was sliced to bits and pieces by a flurry of bayonets. Disgustingly, the fallen parts of the downed vampire wriggled like animated worms. Chunks of marble hard intestines and organs writhed, trying to recombine like a sea sponge.

Anderson turned around and started to hack at more newborn vampires, his blade making a terrible screech as it sliced through the nigh indestructible flesh. But even Anderson's godly bayonets didn't take long to grow dull and useless from the unyielding flesh of such pitiless adversaries. Luckily Anderson seemed to have a near infinite supply of the damn things.

Almost comically, Anderson still had the severed newborn's head in his mouth. The head was snapping back as Anderson held onto it like a stubborn dog with a bone.

Anderson was forced to drop the head when he took a punch to the face, several of his teeth flying through mid-air like sparkles.

Edward meanwhile was just in the process of extricating himself from the chaos when he saw Anderson fly at him from the force of the newborn's punch.

Edward veered left but Anderson seemed to follow him, so he veered right. Anderson was still following Edward as he flew through the air like superman's fucked up cousin.

While he flew like a bird, Anderson yowled at Edward and waved his bayonets like flapping wings. He was about as crazy as a Viking on crystal meth; Edward just like a lost scared kid, fleeing the flying Scotsman.

Suddenly, Anderson slammed into Edward with a sound of meat hitting stone. Except in this case it was stone that was losing, not meat.

All sound Edward could make was cut off as Wildman Anderson grabbed him by the throat and put a bayonet two inches from between his eyes. Edward's topaz eyes looked up at Anderson with a look of pure fear.

Anderson was seething with rage, but also full of pleasure that he'd get to kill Edward. When the lousy brat beat him that first time Anderson set foot in Forks, Anderson never forgot the humiliation. Now he'd take back his dignity.

"Are ya laughin' now, funneh boy?" Anderson asked with a look of pure fury. "Have ya been laughin' at old Alex? HAVE YA!"

Edward's two way radio was busted, not that anybody could do anything to help him now. He was about to face eternity at the hands of the Catholic Crusader.

Even more alarming than the bayonet in his hand was Anderson's thought. They were scaring the shit out of Edward; a maelstrom of flashing images, random words and psychotic intent. It was like looking into a randomly edited video created by a serial killer.

Edward saw flashes of gunfights, police chases, chimpanzees eating each other, Alucard with a moustache and the batman symbol.

Edward suddenly cried out for mercy when he felt Anderson pull down his pants.

Anderson's one eye bulged out while the other was half lidded and his own face couldn't seem to decide whether to smile or snarl. "I won't kill yeh," Anderson growled. "Ah'll make ye suffer as ah've suffered from the humiliation o' not killin' yeh!"

"Please," Edward begged, had he been human tears would have been pouring from his eyes. He could see what Anderson wanted to do in his mind and he did not like it!

Before Edward could beg or pleas more, Anderson put his head down and actually chomped down on Edward's cock and balls.

Edward shrieked in the pain of a thousand shards of broken glass at his violation; for it was a violation. This psychopath Anderson was violating him in a way that wouldn't simply heal. The wounds were very much physical.

Edward screamed and cried for God to kill him as Anderson chewed on his genitals like a rabid dog.

There was a shrieking sound of metal tearing as Anderson bit off Edward's dick and balls.

Anderson made bizarre moaning noises as he chewed Edward's genitals. The stoney parts made crunching noises in Anderson's mouth.

Suddenly, Anderson was barrelled over by a violent, angry newborn. Anderson coughed up Edward's genitals as the newborn bit down on his hand, causing him to drop the bayonet.

As he tried to reach for another bayonet, a second newborn landed on Anderson's shoulder and started biting on his head.

Anderson screamed in pain as his torment of Edward has distracted him and created an opening in his defenses.

Edward meanwhile had sped away, weeping like a girl rebuffed at the high school dance. He was a broken man now.

Anderson thrashed at the newborns which were piling down on him like ants. He tried to pull out a bayonet from his coat, but three more newborns slammed into him and shattered the blades he had with him.

High up in the mountains, watched Schrodinger the eternal cat. The small Nazi catboy giggled gleefully as he viewed the destruction through a brass telescope. The inclusion of the Vatican dog was an unexpected bonus. He normally wouldn't warn Victoria about such a thing, but they way she stroked his ears and petted him . . . it made him _purr_.

Schrodinger saw that Riley had taken half of the newborns to find the human girl, which would then run into the wolf pack that Riley knew nothing about. Schrodinger laughed at how well Victoria had manipulated Riley. It was positively Machiavellian.

Schrodinger then suddenly snapped his fingers; he'd have to update Dok and Herr Joham on the situation.

_Joham's hidden Nazi, base, South America, Unknown location_

Joham was just getting out of the shower when Schrodinger materialized in front of him. The grandfatherly Unstet was just towelling off his back when the catboy materialized inches away from his nude groin.

Schrodinger held up his right arm in Hitler salute, "Heil, Herr Joham! Seig Heil!"

Joham however was hardly pleased. He looked like he'd just been touched by a priest in the wrong way. The first thing he did was throw his towel over Schrodinger's head.

Schrodinger's protests were muffled by the towel, as were his cries of pain when Joham tore the towel rack off the wall and started to beat Schrodinger over the head with it.

When the towel was red with Schrodinger's blood and Schrodinger was moaning in pain, Joham grabbed a thousand dollar bottle of aftershave off the solid gold bathroom counter and busted it over Schrodinger's head, hoping that the alcohol rich mix would burn the cat boy's injuries.

_Olympic Mountain range, United States_

Schrodinger teleported back into the mountain top with his telescope. He was less than enthused by Joham's reaction to him appearing before him while the old man was naked.

Schro shook his head. Joham was such a grouch. But the Nazi credo demanded total obedience to superiors, and Joham was a superior, outranked only by Dok. He'd report to Dok later though.

Down in the valley the newborns charged with riley as their minder. He'd run with them for as long as possible but then he'd have to go back and corral the last group of newborns after they'd finished with the priest.

Riley shook his head. There was no way that man could be a priest. There was no way that any church would accept such a berserker into their ranks. Yet such a man would be perfect for fighting vampires; strong enough to fight vampires and fearless enough to take on an army of them.

Riley was getting worried because he'd seen none of the enemy vampires yet. The day was fully risen but the thick cloud cover prevented the rays of sun coming through and illuminating the day. So it was still quite dark out.

Out of the corner of his eye, Riley saw something zoom from out of the trees and dart at one of his newborns.

The newborn shrieked as its right leg was violently and suddenly relieved from it. The darting figure ghosted back into the trees unseen.

Riley's already strung out senses were put on a higher state of alert. He jerked aside as he saw . . . something. Two things darted from the left and snatched a newborn from the pack. The newborn screamed as the two phantom attackers dragged off the unfortunate vampire by the arms, crushing the arms in their teeth to prevent use of the deadly appendages.

Riley's eyes widened as the herd of newborns suddenly stopped. They were stupid creatures, ruled by instinct except for their rare handful of calmer moments. Now they were following herd instinct against an unknown enemy.

Riley suddenly put a hand to his nose in disgust. What was the fucking stink? It was like wet dog, but much, much worse. Wet dog that could kill you—and most likely would.

Suddenly, Riley caught something moving for him. He managed to duck just in time to miss a giant set of jaws clamp over where his head had been an eye blink ago.

Thrusting his arm out, he made contact with something dense and furry. The unknown attacker flew back but rolled onto its feet, evidently unharmed.

Riley could only stare as a wolf the size of a horse bared its massive fangs at him. Mother fucker; the thing in _Red Riding Hood_ had nothing on this bastard.

The wolf was a sandy colour and built solidly as a tank. Yet the hatred that burned in its eyes was all too human. She was mad at all vampires, for they were the reason that she was a freak. Puberty was a pleasure cruise compared to turning into the only female wolf in history, and Leah was ready to take out all her anger and aggression on these newborns. She'd even work with the Cullens to kill all the fuckers.

If Stalin could have signed a treaty with Hitler, then Leah would work with the Cullens for a short while.

Riley rapidly backpedalled as the she-wolf lunged at him, claws and teeth glinting in the cloudy early morning. He could actually feel the wind from her powerful jaws biting down.

Seeing an opening, Riley lunged for a killing bite to the wolf's throat. Leah however was smarter than that. Feinting, she wriggled out of his bite path and used one forelimb to claw off the side of his head, tearing off an eye in the process.

She in turn used this distraction to sink teeth into his neck. She missed her strike and got his arm instead, just below the shoulder. Knowing better than to let the leech bite her, the female wolf twisted her head and tore off Riley's arm.

God, it felt fucking great to finally get a chance to kill something! She'd hated vampires for so long, and she needed to catch up on practice with her vampire killing.

As she took apart Riley, one of the newborns broke away from the horde and charged for her, arms outstretched and driven by the primitive impulse for blood. The wolf stank but the vampire's unrefined brain sensed that she was food and threat in one turn, so it attacked.

It never reached Leah because at that moment, another sandy coloured wolf jumped onto the back of the vampire and crushed the head in its jaws like a walnut. Her brother Seth was watching her.

The wolves were all one unit. What one saw, they all saw and heard for they were a single hive mind; the perfect unit of pack hunters.

Seth instantly jumped off the back of the headless vampires. With vampires, there's only one way to kill them; that goes for all species. Anything else would just slow them down or piss them off. Even a headless Unstet was deadly.

Spitting out the remains of the vampire's head—disgusting—Seth communicated with his sister. _Watch out, Leah. _

Leah was less than friendly to her bro. _Save it, fat boy. Just kill the fuckers! _

Because it was fucking embarrassing for her brother to watch out for her like that. She was the older sister; it was her duty to take care of him. The rest of the pack would probably break her for it later—cocksuckers. For now, she had vampires to kill.

Up on a different mountain peak, Schrodinger watched the wolves attack through his brass telescope. He chuckled at the damage the red Indians were doing. Being what he was, Schrodinger was everywhere and nowhere; yet he'd never actually been in person to America. He'd already seen Indians, all he wanted to do before leaving this country was to see some gangsters and then his day would be complete.

Teleporting to another mountain peak, Schrodinger refocused his telescope and watched the fight play out.

Half of the newborns had broken away from Riley and they were just stampeding in rage, totally rogue and out of control.

Suddenly, a swarm of Molotov cocktails bombarded the newborns. Most of the petrol bombs missed, a few of the newborns were covered in burning gasoline with magnesium shaving mixed in for extra heat and burn power. These burning newborns thrashed and screamed, throwing their neighbours into a panic.

From out of the shadows cast by the molotovs leaping like hellcats came Rosalie, Esme, Alice and papa Carlisle in his long trench coat.

Unlike his usual gentle self, Carlisle came from the woods with a brace of flintlock pistols. The expression on his face was so mean it could scare every character Clint Eastwood ever played.

Using the bang of his pistols to create more confusion among the easily startled newborns, Carlisle attacked with his five finger discount. One newborn attacked the papa vampire only to take a fist into the mouth and out the back of the head.

Rosalie was like a jungle cat, preferring to kill with her teeth, tearing off heads. She was without mercy. Nobody fucked with her family; she'd kill God himself if he gave her family a sideways glance.

Mamma Esme was even more furious. Lovely Esmeralda was like some goddess of video gamers made real. A newborn tore open the front of her shirt, exposing her breasts but she did not let her state of toplessness stop her. Too many cocksuckers had messed with her family as of late. And any mother will tell you, family is everything, _everything. _

"DIE MAGGOT WHORES!" Esme screamed at the top of her lungs. Two newborns lunged at her but she spun around and slammed their heads together.

By far the most disturbing of the bunch was Alice. A huge crazy grin painted her face, eyes rolling with sadistic glee. If you could see her, you'd think she was a freshly escaped mental patient. She tore the eyes and ears from the newborns and wore them in her hair like trophies.

Smiling and drooling venom, Alice put a torn ear around her finger like a ring. Fucked girl that she was; she thought she looked good. She didn't have to worry about family, her parents could do that. She just liked wearing the body parts of her enemies as accessories. Hell, maybe there was a reason the Apaches used to scalp people back in the old days—they made great hats.

She had a strong sadistic streak and a pathological tendency to view people as chess pieces in her grand schemes. Maybe Jasper loved her lack of empathy; he had enough for both of them.

Rosalie watched her mother, father and sister kill vampires. She saw an arm and a head burning in the fire. The head looked up at her with horror, but she just kicked it back. She preferred to let her other family members do the right thing. This was war and—

Rosalie stopped as she heard something say to her in a German accent. "Ist that the best du got, bitch?"

Before she could turn around, that same person squeezed her ass. Rosalie's eyes widened and she spun around but there was no one there. A number of newborns had fled though a considerable number were burning. The Cullens made no chase.

The whole family turned their heads as Rose freaked out for seemingly no reason. "DON'T TOUCH MY ASS, WONDER WAFFLE! I AM THE FAMILY PRINCESS!"

As Carlisle was reloading his flintlock pistols, Alice dance past, speaking with a fake German accent. "Zhere is so much blood! WUNDERBAR!"

Seeing her sister with eyes in her hair, disembodies fingers in her ears and random bones in her next to non-existent cleavage, Rosalie grabbed Alice and slapped her across the face.

The smile was instantly wiped off her face. Alice instantly spoke to Rose in a dazed voice. "Rosalie, if I ever lose it—really lose it—will you kill me? I'm counting on you."

Rose just smiled and hugged her sister. "Of course I'll kill you Alice, just for you."

Up on his mountain top, Schrodinger was grinning from ear to pointy ear. "These little girl sparkly vampires are fun! I vonder how the Captain is?"

* * *

Down in the woods, the Captain stood around next to a row of dog kennels. Inside the kennels were some of Joham Devenpeck's creations.

Back in the day, Joham had worked for the Third Reich to use a rare element to create an army of zombies. It was a project totally independent of Order 666 and the Millennium Project.

Working alongside medical geniuses like Edward Richtofen and a man called Maxis, Joham had successfully created a race of non-ghoul zombies.

Then, using the pet dog of Dr. Maxis's daughter, Joham created a race of flaming zombie dogs called Hellhounds.

Joham had been working for decades to perfect them but he'd told Dok and the last Nazis that he'd finally gotten the formula right.

The Captain checked his wrist watch while the hellhounds growled at him. In two seconds he'd unleash the hellhounds and they'd kill multiple vampires and possibly Schrodinger.

Well, two seconds were up, the Captain hit a remote control button and all the two dozen kennel boxes opened up. The big werewolf had the ghost of expectation and excitement on his normally placid face.

The flaming zombie dogs ran two paces and then turned and started to attack the Captain. Taken by surprise, the Captain shook around to get the goddamn dogs off his coat. The hellhounds growled and bit into the wolfman, but his iron flesh defied their zombie teeth, which broke easily.

Seeing how this wasn't going anywhere, the Captain spent the next two minutes kicking the crap out of every single one of those damn mutts.

The Captain picked himself up and kicked away the last zombie dog corpse. He hated dogs. Wolves were meant to run free and rule the wild. Dogs were meant to live on leashes.

His trench coat and uniform was in tatters and worst of all his hat was in pieces. Now that pissed the Captain off.

He didn't give a damn what the Dok's orders were, when he got back to South America he was kicking Joham's ass.

Among the mass of newborns, all was chaos. They were herd animals with no herd instinct. They'd run and attack each other and then run and try to attack the unseen enemies who tormented them.

Though a great number of them had been torn apart, the Cullens and allies were not as organized as they should have been and a great number reassembled and continued to fight.

One such newborn, Bree Tanner was in a world of shit. She'd lost sight of freaky Fred and she had no idea whether he was alive or not. Her rational mind was working on the problem of whether to stay behind and wait for the men in her life or cut and run and get the fuck out of there.

She didn't know though, she really didn't know. There were so many things going on. The day was so bright even through the clouds. She could smell smoke with a sickening perfume scent . . . the sweet scent of vampire parts burning.

Yet no matter what her frontal lobes said, her lizard brain was well in charge. Bree was a creature of pure instinct and her rational self was just a passenger along for the ride.

It wouldn't be so hard normally to fight for control, but that lingering smell of human; no matter how stale and old it was did not fail to stoke the fire in her throat.

Suddenly, her nose and the noses of many others caught the scent of human in the air—a male, fresh and lively. His scent was buried under the dank scent of mud but they'd have no problems finding him.

Bree let out a beastly, howl as mindless as a ghoul and ran with her newborn brothers and sisters towards the smell of that sweet, life giving fluid.

They didn't have to run far, the human stood in a clearing. He was tall and his hair was blond; like they'd smelled, every inch of him was covered in mud from head to foot.

Except for the long sword in his hand and the gun in his hand, the human looked much like tribal man; ready for war and connected with the spirits of the natural world.

The newborns just knew one thing; that this man was food. Then he turned around to face them.

The newborns halted just for the briefest moments of time. For this man had no fear in his eyes. Fact of the matter was, young Zohall Mercer had all the fear burned out of him long ago. His innocence had been torn when zombies ate his home town.

Years as an anti B.O.W. mercenary had honed his battle instincts and two years working under the wing of Alucard had gotten rid of any ability to feel fear he had.

Hate was good, Zohall knew. The normally goofy boy was in his game mode. It was him or them and he wasn't the one at the end of this who'd be torn apart and burned. With a flick of his wrist he threw the sheath off his sword, green eyes glowing in the dark.

Before the eyes of the vampires, the sword began to take on a glow. It was lighting up, somehow sensing the power and intent of its owner. The sword which Zohall had dubbed "Gleam" was shining like the legendary sword Excalibur.

The pause ended, one of the newborns charged forward with the same brand of primitive hunger as a ghoul feels.

Yet against the very laws of nature and physics, the human Zohall sidestepped the blow and cut the vampire into quarters with his magic sword.

Bree stopped in her tracks as her companion fell to pieces. Before she could respond to this utterly foreign stimuli, Zohall brought his Desert Eagle Handgun to bear and fired at Bree.

Bree's head snapped back as her lower jaw was blown off. The sound of the gunshot startled the other newborns, who feared the noise of gunpowder as much as the primitive tribes of man did when the strange gunpowder armed invaders came with intent to murder all those years ago.

Zohall's aim was as true as his swordsmanship. With his right hand, his magic sword cut into the invulnerable vampires like butter. With is left hand, he dealt in lead; like a gunslinger of old his shots hit the vital spots.

Bree snapped backwards, grabbing her smouldering jaw. Jamming it into her mouth crudely, she started to babble. Maybe what she was trying to say was "sorry."

She was sorry, but forgiveness would never be hers.

The gunfire stopped. Zohall pressed the button on the handle of his gun and the empty magazine ejected.

The newborns renewed their attack for that was all they knew. A vampire with one arm and half a head charged Zohall. The top half of the creature's head was sliced away, but it was not dead. Its sense of smell was unharmed and it had just enough brain left to be hungry.

The half-headed newborn charged at Zohall with teeth bared. For all that he human had done, he hadn't broken their will to fight.

Zohall crossed his arms.

Just as the newborn was about to squeeze him like a zit, something swooped out of the sky and took him out of harm's way like a mamma eagle watching over her chicks.

The newborns looked up in fear, for the first time they felt true fear.

Up there on a tree was a woman. As gently as an egg, she put down her companion Zohall before flashing an evil grin at the Unstet.

Bree couldn't believe it. The woman had strange runes written across her large bosom, which glowed with potent magic and wards of protection. From her mouth jutted fangs like the killing tools of a panther.

Bree couldn't believe it. It was the mother fucking bride of Dracula.

Red eyed and wild, Seras was hopped up on Bella's virgin blood like cocaine. Bunching her shapely legs, she threw herself down into the mass of newborns.

Unlike Zohall or the Cullens, she could match these newborns muscle for muscle. Thanks to her master's lineage and the runes on her chest, she could fight these newborns on equal terms.

She dropped into their midst like a meteorite. As she fell on them, she screamed a howl of blood and joy—like a fanatical football fan.

And as quick as they were stunned, the newborns howled right back at her like a rival team. Even meek Bree tanner howled with her half regenerated jaw and sank her sharp teeth into Seras's throat, just as the Hellsing vampire was kicking aside two more newborns.

Blood flew everywhere as Bree had broken a major artery. Seras however, just gritted her teeth and bit back. Knocking Bree back, the damaged jawbone became stuck in Seras's neck.

Seras scowled and cracked her knuckles. She was going to give them a demonstration of Zohall's favourite retro video game . . . _Splatterhouse_.

* * *

In the wilderness of the Olympic Mountains, the woman called Victoria ran with grace and speed. Time was of the essence. She was sacrificing a whole army of newborn vampires and that idiot Riley to kill one human girl—it would be a worthy sacrifice. True love could pay any price, for she truly loved James.

With her fire red hair full of leaves and skin milky white, Victoria looked like a beautiful super heroine except for her red eyes. Her feet were bare and her clothes were worn. She was the pinnacle of rustic beauty. She could have any man or woman she wanted.

After the human bitch was dead, she wasn't sure what she'd do. She'd probably join Millennium though. She loved that little Schrodinger. Unlike Joham, Victoria loved cats with a passion. She saw something of herself in those crafty, cute, fluffy creatures who could bend human wills without even trying.

Suddenly, she was forced to stop as the Schrodinger's cat materialized before her. "Hail, Frau Victoria!" Schrodinger shouted.

Playfully, Victoria saluted back in Nazi style. "Heil," she said before giving the cat boy a hug.

Schrodinger immediately blushed and started to stutter. This was the first time a female was affecting him so. Lots of men had made him blush—hot, studly men—but never a woman before; unless you counted that Thai lady boy.

Victoria pulled away and then her tone was all business. "Report, Warrant officer."

Schrodinger nodded and began to gush information. If wasn't a vampire with super powerful brain speed, Victoria might need to video tape Schrodinger and play it all back in slow motion.

"The Cullens are pissed. They haff killed many wampires but they are sloppy and many more have survived. Alexander Anderson ate Eduard's testicles und it was so sexy! Then the Captain got bitten by Joham's hellhounds und the spiky haired girl wore eyes in her hair und Esme isn't eine slut und Bella is all tied up!"

Schrodinger paused to breathe in deeply. "The human pet is tied up zwei kilometer from this position. Just keep going this vay."

Victoria nodded. "It sounds like a trap. They are using her as bait." She face broke into a smile. "I've underestimated these yellow eyed vampires."

Schrodinger grinned back and tried to reassure Victoria. "Don't vorry, Frau Victoria. You vill get your revenge und then du vill join us und du vill scratch mein ears all the time."

The boy's smile turned into something altogether more evil. "The Cullens are pissed off, but they should be afraid."

"Nothing ist vorse than people who help the lesser races," Schrodinger seethed with venom. "Those who do are low, gutless cowards und race traitors." His face turned into a cat's evil grin. "Not just the human girl, but all of them. They will be dealt with; ve vill break their necks and burn their bodies, the low, gutless veak rats. Hell hath no fury like an army on the march."

The cat boy giggled maliciously before saying to Victoria. "Do vhat you came to do. I'll help you."

Then he vanished. Victoria needed no encouragement.

Neither did the bayonet that went through her throat and out the back of her neck. She gurgled in shock and pain at the holy steel going through her throat. She only just managed to duck before seven more bayonets flew through the spot in the air where her head been.

Frantically she'd scanned around. Suddenly, the butt of the bayonet opened up and sparks started to fly out of it.

Acting fast, Victoria tore the foreign object from her throat right before it blew up with enough force to rip her to shreds.

Tuning in with her instincts, becoming one with her power, Victoria realized that there was danger right behind her.

A massive hulking shape, man formed and with bright white orbs for eyes stood behind her. A giant hand reached for her neck, a hand wearing a white glove.

Before Anderson could rip off Victoria's head like a chicken, the damnable Jezebel lunged forward from his grip.

Anderson charged after Victoria and Victoria fled. She was fast, but Anderson had a much bigger stride. He really didn't have an axe to grind with her, but Anderson was going to murder Victoria anyway. The world would thank him for it.

Except the plan hit a snag.

A bayonet came whizzing out of the woods and stabbed Anderson in the head. The regenerator stopped in shock as one of his own holy blades entered one ear and came out the other, coated in blood.

Anderson halted, because while he had balance organs scattered through his body, his main ones were in his hears; exactly like a human being. Whoever threw that bayonet knew of that particular weakness of his.

Before Victoria could move, someone ran behind her and cut off her legs with a bayonet.

She growled in pain as someone grabbed her by the hair and pressed a bayonet to her throat.

It was Edward, dressed in nothing more than a pair of old sweat pants and looking mad as hell. For once, he looked like a hundred year old vampire instead of a teenager and he was out for blood. "You stay right here, sweetie," he said to her. "Daddy is very angry."

Anderson meanwhile had grabbed the bayonet from his head and was pulling it out. "Whit? Whit?" he couldn't comprehend one of his own weapons being used against him.

Though his balance organs were off, he still had enough reflex skill to use the bayonet he pulled from his skull to block the one coming at him.

Sparks flew as Edward clashed against Anderson. Jumping back, Edward slashed downward.

Anderson wanted to laugh, but Edward didn't miss. A moment later, Anderson's pants fell down around his ankles. Edward had cut his belt, quite deliberately in fact.

He gave Anderson a crooked smile that was full of evil intent. He laughed internally as he saw Anderson try to bend down to grab his pants and cover his white briefs.

"How does it feel, you altar boy raping faggot?" Edward asked Anderson. He ran a finger down the length of the bayonet, creating a few more sparks. "How does it feel to be exposed like that?"

Anderson was furious. "Ah'm nothing like Enrico Maxwell!"

Eh, confession much.

Edward growled at Anderson and then did a "come here" gesture with his finger. "Bring it, priest." To make his point, he waved the bayonet he stole from Anderson. Then he grabbed another bayonet tucked into the band of his sweat pants and threw it at Victoria, who was trying to escape. Victoria gagged as the bayonet went into her mouth and out her eye.

Edward grabbed a third bayonet and went into a fighting stance. He wasn't letting his emotions get in the way of this. He was keeping his cool and actually using his experience against Anderson; utilizing the lessons Jasper and Seras taught him.

Anderson began to recite the bible, causing his regenerator's madness to increase.

"_Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name . . ."_

He was cut off by growling, but it wasn't the growling of Edward. Instead, Anderson was cut off by the growling of a chainsaw.

The growling of a chainsaw increased, and was joined by a second chainsaw. Confused, Anderson and Edward both spun around trying to locate the source of the chainsaws.

Edward caught the assassin's mind. Whoever it was, they were barely sentient. They were like one of the newborns but older somehow and much angrier. He could see through the assassin's eyes, or eye.

Edward turned towards the assassin before Anderson did. Neither of them were prepared for what they saw next.

The two enemies were suddenly showered by sawdust as the trunk of a mighty tree nearly thirty feet tall was cut down like a dandelion. Anderson and Edward jumped out of the way as the huge tree trunk fell.

Then stepping over the stump of the tree that fell came a leather apron wearing nightmare in high octane glory.

Victoria couldn't believe what she was seeing. From out of the forest came a giant man with muscular arms and large belly. The man was two feet taller than Anderson and a good deal wider.

She used the term man loosely, since this thing wasn't a man in the traditional sense. The nine foot monster was clad in nothing but ragged jean shorts and a blood stained butcher's smock made of leather—probably human leather. The head of the beast was wholly covered in a burlap sack which allowed only one angry eye to peek out. A nose hung around the neck like an ugly version of a businessman's necktie.

Most disturbing of all was that the man's hands were replaced with a pair of massive chainsaws. And judging by the bloodstains on the howling saws, the guy didn't cut wood very often.

Victoria looked up; there on a mountain peak was Schrodinger, out of Edward's telepathic range. He was gesturing for her to move it.

Grabbing her legs, Victoria scooted away.

"NO!" Edward roared and charged Victoria with two stolen bayonets.

The chainsaw man reacted like a coiled spring, cutting Edward in half; the boy's severed parts flew off in separate directions.

Anderson exhaled deeply and deliberately. He held his bayonets tightly; lucky he hid a few spares in the surrounding area in case his other set got broken. "Ah'right, ya fat bastard," he called to the monstrosity with chainsaws.

Chainsaw man was mute; his only reply was to fire up his chainsaw hands and hold them together so that the chains rubbed against each other, creating sparks and a squeal of metal.

"Let's see what ya got!" Anderson charged like a rabid dog.

* * *

Schrodinger smiled as the Vatican dog charged with Biggy man. Biggy man was Joham's creation; so named because he was the only guy that Joham allowed his daughters to have casual sex with—assuming that "big" wasn't an ironic term. He was the cavalry that Schrodinger sent to Victoria's aid.

As Anderson got a chainsaw through the chest, Schrodinger wondered what it'd be like to fuck a guy with chainsaws for hands.

He thought about it. Hell, he'd do it with Biggy man.

Bella stood in a clearing. Stood was a subjective term because she'd been tied up to a big wooden cross. She was looking like those scarecrows from the planet of the apes, only less scary . . . way less scary.

Her breathing was ragged and unsteady. She'd been feeling fear and stress all day. Since she'd been tied up she'd had no news or contact from anybody. She couldn't hear the battle and she was in the wrong position to see the smoke. It didn't seem fair that the natural area was so beautiful. People were dying out there; there should have at least been some rain or some dramatic music.

Wind blew her hair into her face. All of this was a mistake, it had to be a huge mistake. The worst part of this was that she couldn't tell her dad. If the Volturi found out that Charlie knew the truth, they'd cut Charlie's head off.

In a way, marrying Edward was a lot like marrying into organized crime. Well, if Bella's memory was correct, the wife on the _Goodfellas_ seemed content with her marriage, barring a few cocaine fuelled fights with her husband.

For the first time, her doubts about the future were coming into light. Was that what he marriage would be like; doing cocaine in the morning and grilling Edward to see if he had a mistress.

Bella shook her head; there were just too damn many things to consider. The one thing was that Edward completed her; like the Joker and Batman in _The Dark Knight._ As sick and twisted as it was, it worked. When she was with him, she felt complete. She didn`t even have to ask if this was happiness; it was beyond happiness.

They`d gone and hurt each other, but there was something between them that most people would never feel.

Bella heard a noise and saw something move into the small clearing. It was Victoria.

Victoria looked at Bella, tied up to a wooden platform, just like the cat boy said. Her face was shocked at first, but then that was supplanted by another emotion . . . glee. The target was here and there was nobody to stop her.

Alexander Anderson flew through the dense woods, his body smashing through the thick trunks of trees, splintering them into shit with his momentum.

At last, he hit a clearing and continued to roll like a log. Shakily he stood up but not before a howling newborn landed on him and started to bite into his back. Screaming in pain, Anderson threw the creature off before it could get to his spine.

He wasn't looking good, his bayonets were broken and he could only replicate broken bayonets now. His clothes were torn almost beyond recognition; only his underwear remained intact.

The whole of his body was covered with hundreds of crescent shaped bite marks which weren't healing due to the deadly Unstet venom blocking the hormones that would trigger regeneration in his body.

He was used to pain, but he was also used to wounds healing in seconds. The priest clenched his fists and growled deep in his chest. The pain would not break him because he had God on his side. When all this was said and done, the godless heathens would drown in their own piss and blood while he'd join God and the angels.

Suddenly, Anderson was overcome by a feeling of physical sickness. He groaned before hunching over and vomiting.

What the fuck was that? He couldn't get food poisoning now! He was in the middle of a fight for his life with no weapons—the most perfect time in his life.

Not stopping to wipe the puke off his mouth, Anderson jumped like a panther onto the newborn with straw coloured hair. On top of this creature, the feeling of sickness intensified, Anderson began to dry heave—that was when the newborn struck.

The creature bit into Anderson's muscular neck, the thick muscle and tendon no match for teeth. AT the same time, the creature was digging its fingers into some of his more painful wounds.

Anderson threw himself back, ripping off a chunk of neck; his honey thick blood preventing him from bleeding out too badly.

Suddenly, a newborn landed on his left shoulder and bit off his left arm. While the straw haired newborn landed on his right shoulder and bit off his right arm. The sense of revulsion came back to him and Anderson fought to keep from vomiting up blood.

Throwing all his willpower into it, Anderson threw off the newborns in a spinning move. Controlling his foot speed like a soccer player, Anderson kicked on newborn in the teeth, knocking its brains out of the back of its head. He did the same for the one who caused that feeling of revulsion in him as if he were drowning in a cess pool.

Anderson didn't have time to rest because at that moment, a washing machine full of water landed on his head. Anderson gasped for breath as his head caused the lid on the washing machine to fly open, a wet, soapy bra wrapped around his head.

As Anderson tried to spit out the sudsy water, Emmett Cullen landed on top of him and began to slam the washing machine lid down on Anderson's head.

"DON'T. YOU. EVER. TOUCH. MY. BROTHER!" Emmett screamed with every slam of the lid, which was rapidly becoming full of dents.

Emmett looked like he was going to snap and break down crying. If he were human his eyes would be red and puffy with tears.

For all his eagerness to fight, he was really a big child, with a child's innocence and child's belief in his own invulnerability. Nothing could have prepared him for the reality of people dying, people killing and what happened to his older brother.

When he was human, you got into a fight with someone; you bloodied each other a bit and then shook hands. You didn't kick them when they were down and eat their testicles. So in Emmett's mind, Anderson was the personification of evil and must die painfully.

Jasper meanwhile had shown up and he too was livid with white hot rage at Anderson for daring to eat his brother's genitals. He was so mad he was beyond words. Instead, he just began to kick Anderson repeatedly in the balls, causing the regenerator to swallow large amounts of soapy water by accident.

"Git-off-meh-ya-fucking-ijits!" Anderson yelled between his drowning in soapy water. On the bright side the soapy water was soothing his wounds.

"Suck it!" Emmett yelled, grabbing a piece of underwear and gagging Anderson with it.

Right at that moment though, a legless Edward came flying through the woods and hit Anderson, knocking Emmett off him and splitting the washing machine in two.

Anderson looked down at the legless vampire with a malicious species of surprise. Out from the woods came charging a new batch of newborns; naked because they'd been dismembered without being burned. On the tails of the newborns was Biggy Man, who has two bayonets in his neck and six in his stomach; but otherwise seemed unhindered by his injuries. His chainsaw hands revved and revved.

Then from out of the blue came the human Zohall Mercer, the only remotely normal person in the area. He was aware of the bad blood between Anderson and virtually any vampire on the planet. He'd heard the stories of what the guy did to a little kid who put on a pair of plastic fangs and hissed at him.

"All of you shut the fuck up!" This seemed to stop the Cullen brothers and Anderson in their tracks; it did not stop the charge of the newborns and Biggy Man.

Zohall looked at all the men around him with bright green eyes. "You happy fuckers will all work together right now or we all die right here." Even with his magic sword and gun, there was only so much that the blond swordsman could do if they didn't fight as one. Plus, the fat bastard with the chainsaw hands was a new factor to the simulation.

Anderson saw the wisdom in Zohall's words. Prayer wasn't going to do shit against twenty newborns and Biggy Man.

Anderson's head began to spin around, like a bird tracking for prey. The thought of working _with_ vampires was driving him insane. Finally, he'd had enough. Without his arms he was nearly powerless.

Literally frothing at the mouth, Anderson bent down until he was almost face to face with legless Edward. "I cannae work wit ye! Ye must sing!"

Before Edward could protest, Anderson screamed in his face. "SING!" The enemy was nearly upon them.

Edward began to sing to Anderson.

_Welcome to the Hotel California_

_Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)_

_Such a lovely face_

_Plenty of room at the Hotel California_

_Any time of year (Any time of year)_

_You can find it here_

Anderson didn't like that music however. "FLOGGING MOLLY!" he screamed.

So with their foes nearly on them, Edward began to sing.

_Sail away where no ball and chain_

_Can keep us from the roarin' waves_

_Together undivided but forever we'll be free_

Halfway through the lyrics, Anderson bit down on Edward's flank and picked him up like a dog with a bone. Anderson charged forward with Edward in his teeth, the regenerator was howling for blood.

Edward felt the pain of Anderson's teeth crushing his flesh, but the pain only gave him strength. If he was going to kill these bastards, he'd have to trust a man who hated his guts more than anything. So he sang loudly as his two brothers and Zohall joined the charge to meet the newborns head on. His topaz eyes were now hot with fury.

_So sail away aboard our rig_

_The moon is full and so are we_

_We're seven drunken pirates_

_We're the seven deadly sins_

* * *

Victoria stood smiling at the helpless Bella, only to have Bella pull away from the wooden cross and pull out a handgun.

Victoria's eyebrows raised in surprise. The little whore had actually managed to do something to defend herself.

"Stay back," Bella said with a quaking voice, "I've had it up to here with you." Her emotions were all over the board, not least was the fact that she'd stolen Charlie's gun when he wasn't looking. "Just leave me alone," she said to Victoria in an almost pleading voice.

Victoria just looked at the little human, whose clumsy hands were holding up her father's police gun. She owed the girl an explanation before she died. "You know I can't let you live. You're one who owes me for all the pain I've felt."

She took a step forward; the human fell back, nearly tripping in the process. "Stay away from me," warned Bella, but she was about as threatening as a kitten.

"Are you going to shoot me?" Victoria taunted, "You haven't got the guts."

_BANG!_

Bella shook as the gun in her hand suddenly felt warm. The noise of the gun going off had startled her, she hadn't even thought about pulling the trigger; it just happened.

Victoria clapped a hand to her cheek. When she lifted her hand, Bella saw a small round hole in her cheek like an unsightly mole.

Almost comically, Victoria spat out a bullet. When she looked up, her expression had twisted into the visage of a horror movie monster. Faster than the eye, Victoria grabbed the gun from Bella's hand and crushed it like Styrofoam; breaking some of Bella's fingers in the process.

The girl cried out. This was part of the plan, but they were cutting it damn close.

"I'm going to kill you, you little slut!" Victoria ground out.

Before she could do that however, a giant brown wolf stepped between Victoria and Bella.

"Jake!" Bella cried out with glee. The beta wolf of the pack had come, according to Carlisle's plan. The idea was to give the illusion that Bella was tied up in order to lure Victoria into a false sense of security, despite her power for recognizing the best escape route.

Victoria looked at Jake with fear, just like the beast which destroyed her entire village.

A second gunshot rang out, but this was the sound of a black powder flintlock. Annoyed at the sting, Victoria felt the back of her neck where the lead ball hit her. It had done no damage whatsoever, but Carlisle just stood there with his smoking flintlock like he held all the cards.

"Surrender or die, Victoria!" he called to her. "This girl is family to us and we don't take that lightly. If you want to live, forget what you saw and move on with your life!"

To make his point clear, Carlisle threw open his coat to reveal that he was covered in flintlock pistols in over a dozen leather holsters across his body. He was like a seventeenth century version of Rambo in that gear.

Victoria looked at the growling wolf and the hostile vampire. She still had one card up her sleeve though.

Bella gaped in shock as right behind Carlisle; a boy appeared out of nowhere, one who had cat's ears. The boy grinned and handled the detonator for the multiple sticks of TNT that were taped to his body.

Carlisle spun around and fired a three of his flintlocks into the boy's head. To Bella's shock, the boy didn't die. Instead, he lurched back and then snapped forward, wounds totally gone as if they'd never been. "Seig Heil!" the boy in Hitler youth uniform shouted before blowing himself and Carlisle up.

The volume of the explosion killed Bella's hearing; the sound of phones ringing was all she could hear as she saw pieces of her future father in law fly past her.

What she saw was a blur. She could see Jake and Victoria fighting like cats and dogs but her weak human eyes couldn't see who was winning or who was losing. She heard a loud doglike whine as for a brief moment, she saw Victoria with her arm run through Jake, blood pouring from the giant exit wound.

Gravely wounded, Jake wasn't about to let this slide. He lunged forward and took off Victoria's right arm even as his intestines were spilling all over the ground.

Shouting in a foreign language, Victoria stomped on the werewolf; shattering his ribs and legs.

"Stop it!" Bella shouted at the top of her lungs, her face burning with the feelings of helplessness. She ran over to Victoria and started bashing on her, injuring her knuckles in the process and making them bleed.

Victoria spun around, invigorated by the smell of blood. She was about to rip open Bella's throat but Jake had a grip on her leg with his teeth.

Bella fell back. Victoria looked like an honest to god monster now. There was nothing human in her sick, red eyed mien. She looked like the devil's wife. Clear, slightly yellowed venom flowed over her chin and her hair waved in the wind like fire.

Victoria had to go now; the Nazi Schrodinger had helped her as far as he could. The wolf was still alive but wounded and she could clearly see Anderson, Edward, Emmett and Jasper charging for her. The human had to die now.

The light brigade consisted of Zohall riding on Jasper's back, Emmett taking the rear and Anderson holding Edward in his teeth. Everyone was screaming for satisfaction. Only Victoria's death would make them happy.

Rosalie, Esme and Alice were finishing off the last of the newborns with the help of the wolf pack. They'd tear the newborns apart but not burn them all yet. Carlisle wanted to give some of them a chance. Besides, with Victoria dead, there would be no need to kill anymore newborns.

Yet Victoria had failed to factor in one last crucial player in the fight.

Her boots hit the ground with faster speed than the human mind could comprehend. Her boobs were huge and her police training had served her well. She fought like a vampire soccer hooligan and she fought for love, justice and the English way. She was Seras Victoria and she was going to save the day.

As Victoria raised her hand to kill Bella, Seras jumped into the air and brought her legs up before her.

With all her might, Seras used both her legs in mid-air to kick Victoria in the crotch as hard as she could. In her crazy Nosferatu mind, Seras could almost hear the sound of bagpipes playing. The bagpipes were the perfect accompaniment to the shattering of Victoria's stone labia and her subsequent scream of agony.

Not done with her foe, Seras grabbed Victoria by her shirt and elbowed her in the face as hard as she could. "That's how it's done in the UK, Vicky!" Then she threw the downed vampire to the allied forces. "She's all yours!" Seras cackled triumphantly.

They wasted no time. Anderson spat out Edward, who took care of business.

Burying his fingers in Victoria's spine, he yanked as hard as he could and tore out not only her spinal column but her skull as well.

Victoria's face came off from her skull, showing the bleached white surface and sticking to her body like a sick rubber mask.

Edward took Victoria's skull/spine and threw it to Jasper, who grabbed it and began to smash it against the mountain, cracking the stones while Emmett used his lighter to start a fire.

Victoria wouldn't see or smell as she brain was smashed into dust along. She expected to see smoke and brimstone but there was none of that. Instead there was a kaleidoscope of images form her life, both from her first and second lives.

Then like Felix the cat, Schrodinger stepped into her pre-death hallucinations.

"Hallo Victoria," the cat boy said with a smile. "You lost," he said with perfect joy. "But do not despair, meine schones frau."

Victoria could only stare at him in this weird limbo of imagery.

"You failed to avenge James, but always remember that nothing is permanent; not even death."

The lad threw a Nazi salute as fire began to consume the image of her life. "Aufweidersing, Frau Victoria! May you find happiness!"

Bella just stood hugging Edward, whose legs were already starting to grow back. Alexander Anderson stood sitting on a rock, his wounds weren't even beginning to heal; there wasn't a place on his body that wasn't injured.

Jasper stood off to the side, trying to keep clear of the rampant emotion. He had to hand it to Anderson though, the regenerator had picked up more wounds in one fight that he did in all the Southern wars.

Emmett threw his tough guy image to the wind and sobbed openly into Rosalie's shoulder. His wife tenderly stroked his hair and assured him that all the bad men were gone and they'd never come back.

Alice was helping her mother Esme pick up the pieces of their wounded father. The normally buoyant Alice looked like she was going to cry; but she kept a fake smile plastered to her face because if she started to lose that smile she'd fall apart completely.

Seras was twitching and irritable. She looked like she was coming down from a drug high. Already she was itching for something else to kill. That and the clouds were starting to clear, which was hurting her skin like fire. She wanted to get into her fucking coffin and drink a pint of blood.

Zohall looked bone weary tired. The mud he'd packed on because he'd watched predator too many times. He tried not to think about how close everything came to falling apart and how lucky they'd been. He couldn't help but think of all the possible ways that they could have all died just now; the eternal optimist Zohall had a pessimistic side to him.

Victoria was dead and the newborns were all in piles of body parts. They'd decide what to do with them when they'd all gathered their wits.

Unfortunately, something else dropped out of the sky on the group. A blonde man with sunglasses and a black business suit; his fine tailored jacket blowing in the wind.

Albert Wesker looked around at the heaps of dismembered newborns with a dispassionate eye. He barely even noticed as his associate Furio dropped a brown haired newborn into the ground before him. There had been some stragglers, Furio liquidated them. He had Bree Tanner brought here alive to serve as an example.

"Good Morning," Wesker said to the Cullens.

* * *

And that's all folks :D This has got to be one of my longest chapters yet but it was worth it. It's been a while since I've written this story and I hope you guys can forgive the absence ;)

I'd like to cite the wonderful author Blacksand1 for her great story _Metal Gear: Regenesis_, the fabulous Shallowswan for her great story _Twilight Horoscopes: A deathnote Opera_; which is the only story crazy enough to combine Twilight, Deathnote and some Hellsing. If you love my work you'll love her story times two.

There are a shit ton of other authors who are as good as or better than me but that would take too long.

Biggy Man is owned by Namco, which created the _Splatterhouse _game series.

Next chapter Albert Wesker executes Bree Tanner and Integra shows up with Tony Soprano in time for the wedding.

Also stay tuned for my _Deadliest Warrior_ story. I'm doing a back for blood match with zombies :D It's a two parter.


	38. The Death of Bree Tanner: Part 2

The Big Hellsing: Chapter Thirty-Eight

The Death of Bree Tanner: Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Zohall Mercer, Twilight, Hellsing, the Sopranos or resident Evil. If I have misrepresented the medical condition known as depression, please tell me.

* * *

_Twenty hours prior to the battle_

Zohall Mercer looked at himself in the mirror. It was almost like he was putting on a fashion show for himself. Flexing his muscles and posing, the young man was doing his best to build up his ego. He was handsome and sculpted but compared to those supernatural creatures living in Forks he was sadly lacking. Even Alucard's abs and pecs put Zohall to shame.

The young swordsman shook his spiky blonde head. He had serious business to attend to.

Grabbing the phone in the Cullen's house, Zohall gingerly started to dial into the rotary phone. In a few moments, Zohall was calling a number somewhere in New Jersey.

After what felt like an eternity of ringing for the ADHD afflicted man, Zohall finally got an answer. "Hello?" came a gruff New Jersey voice.

"Hi Mr. Soprano! My name is Zohall Mercer. " came Zohall's cheery greeting on the phone.

"Who the fuck is this?" demanded Tony Soprano on the other end of the phone.

Zohall's cheerful disposition halted for a moment, "Uh, I wasn't mentioned?" he said sheepishly.

"You've got three fucking seconds to get off this phone before I find you and crush your skull," Tony warned.

Zohall was visibly shaken by Tony's rage, "Uh, I work for Integra Hellsing?"

"Huh?" said Tony Belligerently, "How do you know Integra? Are you with the Vatican, the Feds?"

"Well you see Mr. Soprano, I work with—

"Shut up" snapped Tony, "What the hell do you want?"

Zohall hesitated for a moment, "Well, I know you're a busy man so I'll just come out and say it; I'm going to need twenty or thirty whores/strippers for the big wedding in—

"Shut the fuck up!" shouted Tony, preventing Zohall from revealing the location of the wedding to anybody with a wiretap. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a waste management consultant. But If I did know about whores, and that's not an admission, I could, maybe, possibly do it for you; just bring over some lady friends."

"Fuck yeah!" cheered Zohall, "Thanks Mr. Soprano."

"Don't mention it," said Tony, "And if you ever call me again on this number I'll break your fucking neck. IF you need something, talk to me face to face or I'll slit your throat."

"Loud and clear," Zohall affirmed as Tony slammed the phone shut on the other end.

With that business cleared up, Zohall realized that his coffee was getting cold. Esme brewed such good coffee and he'd hate to waste it.

Unfortunately, Zohall slipped on the rug in the Cullens house and spilled the coffee all over the floor. "Ah shit!" he cursed and grabbed a paper towel.

_As Zohall throws the paper towel over the spilled coffee, the coffee stains form words and the screen fades to black _

_The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair_

_This is what happens when you fuck a Hellsing in the ass. _

_Now, The Forks Meadow_

* * *

Albert Wesker stood in the meadow just as the sun was parting through the clouds. Next to him stood the laconic Furio, former mob assassin and currently the most deadly man in the Volutri's organization. He was probably the only creature on earth who could make sparkling look scary.

Surrounding Wesker and Furio were Jasper, Emmett, Edward and Anderson. The Cullens were wounded and mentally fatigued. Emmett now had his first scars while Jasper gathered a few new ones; Edward's scars were entirely mental.

Glaring at Wesker with incandescent rage, Zohall looked nothing like his ordinary self. Covered in mud and blood, wielding his magic sword, the young man looked like a demon raised from the blood of the innocent. He was like the crow, bringer of death and ferryman of souls.

Seras was fittingly feral, hissing at Wesker with fangs drawn. Furio merely glared at her; she'd be the one he killed first if things went bad.

Wesker scanned from behind his dark sunglasses; behind those blackened shades his red slitted eyes focused. "I apologize towards the Cullen coven at the lateness of the official Volturi taskforce for dealing with this unfortunate newborn uprising."

"Bullshit!" shouted the bullheaded Emmett, "You let us risk our fucking lives and do your dirty work. Where's your fucking task force?"

Wesker pointed to Furio, "He is the entire task force."

Tempers were short and nerves were frayed, the Cullen family and the Quileutes were exhausted mentally and physically. Armless, wounded and buck naked, Anderson ground his teeth at the sight of Wesker's smug face.

Edward had dropped to the ground, nude, and legless and missing his genitals. None the less, despite or rather because of his savage state Bell was now cradling him; shielding him as if trying to protect him from Wesker and Furio.

Zooming over the hill, came the rest of the Quileute pack and the remainder of the Cullen family. The wolves seemed to have taken far fewer wounds than the Cullens, with the exception of Jacob.

Carlisle could not speak, for he'd been blown to bits and his jaw and vocal cords were somewhere far away by now. Esme and Alice shielded the fallen family patriarch.

"You planned nothing of the sort," Esme accused Wesker, "You mean for us all to be killed or else for us to clean up the mess before you."

Wesker merely snorted at Esme's harsh words, "You've no proof that we were involved in this." He was a slippery bastard as always.

A whimper from the ground brought Wesker back to the matter at hand. There huddling on the ground like a mouse before a cat was Bree Tanner, someone's daughter, someone's friend, even someone's lover. Now, she was just dead meat. She'd been dead from the moment that Riley turned her. Like falling off a building, she just careened through her second life only to now meet the hard pavement.

Bree writhed on the ground like a cornered animal, occasionally making a growl that sounded more pitiful than threatening. Gripping the earth as if she'd fall off of it, Bree looked up briefly at Bella with her woeful red eyes.

Wracked with the pains of thirst, she growled and pushed her face into the verdant grass. "How do you stand it?" she demanded. "How do you stand being around her?"

Bella's eyes widened as she realized that this unknown vampire was talking about her.

Before anyone could say anything, Wesker kicked Bree in the side like a puppy, "It is because you are weak!"

Bree shrank from Wesker's foot but there was nowhere to hide.

Wesker kicked her again "It is because you are weak that you deserve to die!"

"No!" Bella shouted at Wesker, "don't!"

Wesker sneered at Bella, "Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do. I came to enforce the laws of the Volturi and she is a criminal; justice must be met."

Esme put a hand on Bella's shoulder, pulling her back. "Bella is right," Esme explained calmly, "This girl is innocent, she did not choose this life."

Wesker however would have none of this, "This is not an inquisition; guilt has already been ascertained. What you, all of you are doing is obstructing justice."

"Fuck you Wesker!" Zohall screamed, losing his temper, "You poison everything you touch! You don't even know what the fuck justice is!" That was true, if Wesker spoke ill of Adolf Hitler then Zohall would be inclined to speak kindly of Hitler.

Wesker sniffed a bit and adjusted his sunglasses. All eyes were focused on him; not just his physical being but his history.

Across the Quileute wolf hive mind, thoughts of Wesker and Raccoon City came up. This was _the_ Wesker, the man whose work has wiped out an entire American city and unleashed a devastating biological weapon on the globe.

Collecting himself, Wesker retorted to the circle of vampires, wolves and humans who surrounded him. He looked directly at Zohall, "You were there at Raccoon City?"

Zohall nodded savagely, his hand slowly going for his gun.

Wesker ran a gloves hand through his heavily gelled hair, "Well, the fact that I may have allegedly caused the deaths of all your friends and loves ones is actually," he paused and licked his lips, "a source of great amusement to me."

Zohall tried to lunge at Wesker, but Emmett and Jasper held him back; they had no intention for this thing to boil into something more than it had to be. The Volturi had already passively tried to kill their family; there was no point in provoking them into active murder.

Wesker shook his head at Zohall's lack of control. Never having any friends or loved ones, Wesker was at a total loss of how empathize with Zohall and he certainly wasn't willing to try. He looked at the Cullens and growling Quileute wolves with his most sincere fake sympathy. "Simply stand aside and allow my compatriot to execute this criminal scum. You only need turn your backs and walk away; nothing could be easier."

Esme narrowed her beautiful golden eyes at Wesker. "Turn a blind eye, walk away. People did just that during my first marriage; he was a cunt; he abused me and made me feel like shit. And everyone just walked away." Esme spat on the ground, causing Jasper and Emmett and even Edward to look at their adopted mother in a new light, "People like you are responsible for all the suffering in this world.

Wesker sneered at Esme's sweeping statement regarding his behavior. If only she knew what he really had in mind; he was going to save the world, not without some casualties but he'd save it.

"Why would you want to spare her? For argument's sake, enlighten me," everyone around him was rapidly starting to hate Wesker's arrogant, snooty voice.

Little Alice spoke next, her normally bell like voice sounding unusually dull and strained. "She didn't choose this life," she protested like a witness in court. "Hardly any of us chose this life; it was all Victoria's doing and she's dead."

Anderson spoke next in a growling Scottish broque, "_Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day; Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday_." He grunted and gnashed his teeth, "Wesker, ye best be squarin' up wit God afore I finish ye!" Not that Anderson cared about Bree Tanner, he wanted to kill her; but he wanted to kill Wesker more.

Wesker looked at Anderson as if he respected him less than Edward Cullen. "Will someone get rid of this zealot and his bronze age book?"

"Never mind him," said Esme in a harsh voice, pushing Anderson backwards. Anderson growled but in his injured state he bowed before the MILF vampire. "This is about the girl, she may not be completely innocent but in times like these is it not better to temper justice with mercy?"

Wesker nodded, "Well, I have to admit that you make a compelling argument, almost." He paused to mull over his thoughts, "If I spared this girl," he glared at a petrified Bree Tanner, "would you truly take her in, knowing full well that she would not have shown you the same mercy?"

Esme nodded, "I don't even have to think about it. Sometimes all that anyone really needs is a cuddle."

"Cuddle!" Wesker struggled to supress a shout as he entered a flashback and Seras and Edward were treated to a front row seat into Wesker's tortured psyche.

_Flashback_

_Cuddles=evil!_

_Wesker stands in the middle of a spinning stage with freaky red lighting shining on him. _

_Walking towards Wesker is Aro Volturi, wearing a cowboy hat, tight red speedo and leather chaps. His flint like nipples stand out on his pale skin like two light rose nubs. _

_The camera zooms in on Wesker as Aro gets down and starts gobbling on Wesker-sausage. _

Edward cringed and hugged Bella tighter, hoping desperately that God would strike him down before seeing something like that gain.

Seras felt a little different, "oh my," she gasped, "That' hot."

"What did you see?" Emmett asked while Rosalie held him like a baby.

"She saw nothing!" Wesker snapped and tried to adjust his coat as he calmed himself down internally and reigned in his thoughts from both Edward and Seras.

Wesker turned back to Esme, who was his opposite number in the group. The wolves were glancing back and forwards at each other over Wesker's little freak-out and wondering just what the hell was it that Seras saw?

"Mrs. Cullen," he began, "You would spare this girl even though she is guilty of attempting to exterminate not only your family but virtually any human presence that she comes across; are you only parroting your husband's misguided ideals."

Esme shook her head as she looked into the shadowy man's eyes, "No, it is not just Carlisle that I'm doing this. I know when someone needs help and this girl needs it; I know what it's like to be helpless and to believe that you are powerless, something I wonder if you've ever experienced."

Everyone watched Esme with admiration as she stood for her beliefs, even crazy Anderson. "This girl is powerless now," Esme gazed down at the huddled Bree, "She is still dangerous but what she needs is mercy. She's surrendered to us."

Bree's eyes snapped as she was addressed, "You girl," said the golden eyed vampire with the caramel colored hair. Bree cowered in fear, her perfect memory playing back images of that same sweet, kind vampire ripping off the heads and limbs of her fellow newborns. Every instinct in Bree's body told her to either flee or fight; to not trust this sweet talking serpent of a woman.

Bree tried to speak in reply but her panic caused her vocal cords to tighten up and all she could produce was a pitiful growl.

"If we took you in," Esme started, "if we accepted you into my family, would you swear never to take human blood again?"

Bree blinked three times before clenching her throat, the scent of the human girl's nearby blood was making her fucking crazy. Why was she here anyhow? What was so special about one little girl that so many had to die?

"It hurts," Bree croaked, she sniffed as if she were about to cry but she knew for some time now that crying was forever beyond her in this shitty second life. "How do you stand it?" she looked directly at Bella with a look that fairly broke the young human girl's heart.

And Bella had to wonder why all of this happened? There was really nothing that made her worth the dozens of lives that had been ended and it made her pale cheeks burn bright with shame.

Wesker stood next to Esme like the devil standing next to God, a sneer plastered across his face; holding nothing but contempt for Bree.

Esme looked at Bree like she was her own daughter, but refrained from touching the girl for fear of provoking the newborn into attacking and ruin her chance of salvation.

Jasper fought to supress a growl, only Alice holding his hand stayed him from killing Bree. Unlike Esme, he just couldn't forgive Bree for what had happened. He wanted them all dead and he just could not find it in him to forgive.

Edward was reading Alice's mind, he knew that Bree was going to be spared by Wesker, and everything would be alright. Bree would even join the family

Esme asked the girl, "What is your name?"

"Bree," came the choked answer as her fingers tore apart the grass, panic and thirst nearly overwhelming her.

Esme walked closer to Bree. All eyes followed her with shock; Wesker raised an eyebrow of surprise.

Gently, like touching the flank of a raging bull, Esme put a hand on Bree's back. Bree's head snapped and she growled at Esme; nothing but pure aggression.

Esme didn't flinch, she showed no fear or hesitation. She merely stared into Bree's nearly glowing red eyes. Like a slow leak, Bree's aggression gradually deflated and she suddenly realized how silly she looked, threatening this unthreatening woman.

"Bree," came that musical, gentle voice.

Bree looked away, looking at the ground. She was keenly aware of all the eyes that were on her now. Never before had she felt more alone and naked. The man who wasn't a man glared at her behind the safety of his sunglasses and expensive clothing; like a snake ready to strike.

The one cruel looking vampire in a black robe just looked like he wanted nothing else except to cleanse the universe of her existence.

The Scottish giant covered in wounds with no arms looked at her with hate, but unlike the not-man in the sunglasses it was honest hate, pure and clean. Next to him was the regenerating remains of a vampire with straw colored hair, like a shattered marble statue.

The blonde one with scars gave her the glare of death, his look made her feel especially ashamed of herself. Doubts began to flood her mind and internally she flagellated herself for not running away sooner or not being able to pull of the plan she and diego came up with. Looking back on her first and second life, Bree Tanner felt nothing except an absolout, indeniable sense of shame; she'd always been the one to blame.

She looked at Esme's hand and then slowly, reluctantly made eye contact with the vampire matriarch. "I'm afraid you'll be just like them," she squeaked in a voice too low for the human ear.

Esme nodded sympathetically, aware that Wesker's presence could jepordize everything with the unstable newborn; there was no telling when or if she'd explode into a volent fit. "That's natural, dear; hang onto that feeling. I'd like to prove that we are different instead of offering empty words."

Bree bit her lip in indecision. She desperately wanted to take Esme's offer, but thus far Esme had done nothing to deserve trust; all she had was a promise and promises were cheap.

"Well," after Esme's ringing bell voice, Wesker's nasal tone was like a punch in the ear. Bree growled at Wesker and Esme immediately withdrew her hand of the young girl, fearing that close proximity would provoke an attack.

"Well, well," Wesker drawled, "Mrs. Cullen, I do have to hand it to you; your capacity for manipulation is astonishing."

With casual ease, Wesker reached up and pulled off his sunglasses; revealing his red eyes with cat like slit pupils. "Were I a softer man, I would be moved by such a display of manipulation."

Bree growled louder and louder at Wesker, bunching her legs up to pounce at the foreign creature that wore the skin of a human. Furio shifted one fraction of an inch in his posture but Wesker did not move at all. He assumed the posture of an arrogant teacher talking down to an underachieving student. "You ought to consider yourself lucky, girl, that these people have shown an interest in you. What you've done to warrant such attention is a mystery."

Then Wesker made his decision, "Kill her!" he snapped at Furio with pure hate in his voice.

Furio needed no more encouragement than the trigger of a gun, like a humanoid laser beam, he struck Bree at impossible speed. In one smooth motion he ran behind the confused newborn and drove a thumb through the base of her skull and into her midbrain, cutting off all conscious movement.

Screaming in frustration and horror at the man's callousness, Esme ran up to Wesker and grabbed him the collar. Lifting up the man in the air, Esme had transformed from loving mother to raging, frothing animal. Her teeth were bared and her lovely eyes bulged out to a degree that Seras had only before seen in Enrico Maxwell.

Seeing that Esme wasn't thinking with her rational mind, Seras leapt forward and put her arms around Esme. Meanwhile, Wesker made no move to free himself from Esme's grasp, if anything he was sneering at her as if tempting her to try something; I dare ya!

"No!" Seras shouted, holding the Cullen matriarch as Integra once held her during the Valentine brothers attach, "Don't risk it," she glanced up at Wesker's contemptuous face, "Too many have died because of him; don't throw it all away."

And so slowly, painfully, Esme gradually lowered Wesker to the ground. The bio terrorist and killer sniffed and straightened out his coat jacket. "You make a compelling case," came his arrogant voice, "however there is no reason for me to spare this criminal." He thrust an arm at Bree, who was a prisoner in her own body as her legs and arms thrashed mindlessly.

Struggle as she did though, she was no match for Furio.

Wesker took a deep breath, "This girl has been found guilty, and as a servant of the Volturi it is my sacred duty to punish those who have transgressed the laws." He turned to his assistant Furio and said with a hint of satisfaction, "Let the execution begin." A smile started to tug at Wesker's lips.

Legless and nude, Edward tried to hug Bella, "Look away, darling," he tried to protect what was left of her innocence.

Yes, Edward had seen Alice's vision of Bree being spared, but then Wesker changed his mind . . . there was nothing more to it. Wesker will it, it happened.

"No!" shouted Wesker, causing Bella's eyes to snap open and turn towards the execution of Bree Tanner.

Bella looked upon Wesker with fear and alarm; from his glasses to coat to his hair, he dressed the part: a stone cold killer.

"You girl," Wesker purred seductively, "I want you to witness the execution of the guilty." He sucked in his breath as if the idea of execution was making his aroused, "I want you to witness the true power of the vampire species in all its beauty." His palms grew sweaty with anticipation

Bella was horrified as Bree Tanner was ripped apart. The head was torn off first, then the trunk was dismembered; arms were torn off first and then the legs. A metallic screech cut through the air, causing the wolves to wince in pain.

Bella continued to watch Bree, like a train wreck it was just too horrible to look away from. Her brown eyes were wide open and her flushed cheeks had lost all color. Her chestnut hair hung over her face like a funeral vail; an unwashed, dull funeral vale. The girl was nearly bleached of color; she felt like she was going to vomit.

Meanwhile, Edward, his legs starting to grow back, focused his attention upon Wesker. He took note of the man's barely supressed smile, his undisguised glee at the murder of a girl who couldn't be older than his Bella. Wesker's thoughts screamed volumes.

"_Make her suffer!_" he howled in his mind like a blood crazed boxing fan. Wesker was enjoying this too much to hide it from Edward although his sense of self control would try to downplay his enjoyment for others. But he could not disguise the racing of his pulse, the smell of exhiliaration that came off of him and the dilation of his pupils.

To Wesker, there could be no more beautiful work of art than one Unset killing another. The metallic shriek of limbs being torn was like an orchestra. The sparkling skin in sun was like a delightful crystal set being smashed. The looks of fear as the severed head lolled about were like fine cinema and the aroma of burnt flesh was the best perfume.

Soon, there was nothing to mark the passing of Bree Tanner except ashes and purple smoke. The deed was done. Even Anderson had suddenly lost the craving for a vampire's death. Never before had the death of a vampire seemed so . . . pointless.

Flexing his shoulders, Wesker once more made himself an unreadable wall behind his sunglasses. Nobody needed to know what he was thinking; he had nothing to prove.

Turning to the Wolves, Seras and Zohall, the Cullens and finally Bella Swan, he announced, "Law and order has prevailed. You may all sleep soundly tonight and without fear" he came across like a two bit, low rent preacher.

Pointing a gloved hand at the traumatized Bella, he informed her, "I shall be at your wedding," He then added, "You can't have a wedding without bagpipes."

Wesker turned and started to walk away without further word. Furio followed him like the grim angel of death.

Everyone stood still, stunned as if the TV had been unplugged in the middle of the show. Could this be it? Had they defended their homes and families only to fall prey to the scheming Machiavellian designs of some ancient, greedy vampires? It very well looked that way; yet none present had any idea how deep the conspiracies went or how much they'd all suffer very soon.

Stepping ahead of the mutated human, Furio jumped onto a pink bicycle with a yellow basket on the front. Kicking up the bike stand, he waited until Wesker was firmly seated in the basket. Then they took off like a shot, Furio's cloak and Wesker's jacket flying in the wind.

Everyone watched as Furio peddled the pink bicycle into the forest, only for a branch to whip by and hit Wesker in the face. "MY GLASSES!" Wesker shouted. "NOOOOO!"

_Meanwhile, Northern British Columbia_

Freaky Fred's real name was Fred Flanders. Back in his first life, friends used to call him Ned after the character on the Simpsons. Then at some point, depression set in for Fred and things went downhill. It wasn't like he wasn't trying to be happy, he couldn't be happy; biologically impossible.

So after a while, he stopped taking his meds and one by one friends and acquaintances left him to his own destructive path. Family really didn't pay too much attention; they had bigger problems than a son who was self-destructing.

Fred became a recluse, shunning all human contact, giving up on hygene and other basic human tasks that we all need to function as a society.

Fred didn't really remember how he'd been turned, only that when he became a vampire his depression manifested as a power. It caused people to become physically ill, which was fine with him as the company of others was not only unsatisfying but among the volatile newborns it could be dangerous.

Fred stood under the shade of a large pine tree, high in the mountains, far from any human contact. Fred had devoured a deer in his hunger on the way here but the feeling of being nourished did little to pick him up.

He'd gone and fucked up. The girl Bree had been depending on him and he'd failed. That feeling of guilt was worse than any depression he'd ever had.

There was just something about Bree. Maybe it was a latent power and maybe it was just her personality, but she could reach him in a way that others couldn't. With her, he could actually be happy.

He could never have been romantically involved with her. She was barely sixteen and he was almost thirty; it made him feel uncomfortable. Fred had always been a gentleman, at least before depression crushed all happiness in his life.

And so Fred waited under the shade of the pine tree; waiting for either Bree and Diego to turn up or for him to turn into true stone and crumble into dust . . . whichever came first.

Simply put, Fred felt like he'd never be happy again and this was all there was. His power would ensure that he'd be left alone forever.

But death by loneliness wasn't what fate had planned for Fred. The cold winds whipped at him and stirred his light blonde hair. He didn't feel the wind and apparently neither did his newest intruder.

"Vhy so sad?" came the voice of a young boy, "You should just . . . turn that frown, upside down!"

Fred looked up, confused out of his mind for the first time in who knew how long. Accepting that Vampires were real and becoming one was one thing

Standing before Fred was a young boy in Hitler youth uniform with cat ears. Fred's depression lifted just a little bit, enough to ask himself "_what the fuck_?" in his mind.

The cat boy took a step forward, seemingly unaffected by Fred's power. "Sie sind the last man standing, did you know that?" He grinned a sly grin.

As he walked up to Fred, he patted the vampire on the shoulder. A low growl came from Fred, he never liked people touching him.

"Vell," Schrodinger praised, "You are a big boy, nice und strong! The perfect Aryan specimen."

Getting right into Fred's face, Schrodinger began to examine him with a very specific purpose in mind.

Acting on instinct, Fred drove a fist right through the cat boy's head, ripping his body apart in an animal frenzy. Strangely however the cat boy's blood had no scent.

Fred sat back down under the pine tree. He ddin't mean for the cat boy to die, but maybe if he stayed up here long enough he couldn't hurt anybody ever again.

But the cat came back, the very next second.

This time Fred did not just passively sit and let the cat approach. He stood up in defensive stance and bared his teeth.

"Vell," remarked Schrodinger, "You don't have the blue eyes, but red ist better. It ist the color of power und blood."

Undaunted by Fred's aggression, Schrodinger examined him. "I think you have potential. Vhat's your name?"

"Fred," he replied noncommittally.

Schrodinger bounced on his heels, like one of the little folk from mythology; the ones who spoke in riddles and stole children. "Vell, Frederick, I am about to deliver you a chance at redemption."

"Redemption," the Unstet mumbled, his aggressive manner already starting to go away.

"Ja! Ja!" Schrodinger nodded his head up and down rapidly, "A chance to take back your honor as a man!"

Anger sparked back into Fred's eyes, shaking away his apathy, "Are you the same at the big Nazi giant who worked for Victoria?"

Schrodinger could tell that Fred did not have fond memories of the Captain so he took a different route. "Vell, maybe if you joined my organization, you could make it up to your little girl, Bree . . . or vhatever her name vas."

Fred growled threateningly at Schrodinger, causing snow to fall off the pine tree he was standing under. The slow covered Fred but it only had the effect of making him look like some kind of abominable snowman.

"Hear me out," said Schrodinger, holding up his hand in peace, "Vas it myself und my own who killed her?'

"No," ground out Fred.

Schrodinger nodded, "Und vas it my organization who killed all the ozzer newborns?"

Fred already knew the answer.

Schrodinger had the lad, he only needed to finish up, "Do you haff any prospects? Do you haff any reason to get up in the morning?"

"I don't sleep," Fred admitted.

"Vhatever," Schrodinger huffed, "Mein point is, this Bree vould vant you to go on und live. Und maybe I'm crazy, but perhaps you could become an officer in our army."

Fred's eyes narrowed at the surreal nature of it all. Only hours ago he'd been cannon fodder for an army of vampires and now some kind of boy neko was trying to give him the "be all that you can be" pitch.

Schrodinger put a hand out and leaned on Fred's pine tree. "You don't haff to say yes, but if you do there vill be a uniform in it for you, respect, discipline und authority."

Ignoring Fred's growling, Schrodinger knocked gently on Fred's skull like a door, "Fred, ve vant to help you." And he stepped back, "Und if you don't like our little family, you can just . . . walk away."

He smirked at Fred, "Think about it." He started to walk away.

As he walked away from the belligerent Unstet, Schrodinger wore a snowing smile. Like a con artist, he'd identified the mark and had gone for the greatest vulnerability.

"Wait," said Fred.

* * *

And that wraps up this exciting chapter of the Big Hellsing :D Next time we arrive at Bella's wedding and in a secret, private ceremony Alexander Anderson marries Bella and Edward :D The next chapter will have thrills, chills, underage drinking and more ;)

And in the meanwhile, Millennium is on the move :D

thanks for reading and reviewing, you are all wonderful :D If you're looking for a good time I suggest trying Baxyratty's collab with me called Warning: Hitchhikers may be Escaping Nazis.

Ta

Master of the Boot


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